Harbinger
by Cecilia Green
Summary: The battle with Bloody Mary left many scars, and many ghosts. Bigby and Snow try to sort through the aftermath of the chaos while deciding where they stand in each other's lives. As they struggle to repair the damage, portals start to open all over Fabletown, threatening not just the Fables, but the entire mundy world. Sequel to Animals.
1. It's Not Over

**And I am back! It's good to be writing again, folks. First let's get a few things out of the way:**

**This is a sequel to Animals, but you don't really have to read the first story to understand this one. Just try to enjoy it. It's currently rated T for violence and swearing. If you have any troubles with the content rating, just shoot me a PM and I will fix it for you :)**

**Also, I have a butt-ton of things I need to keep track of right now, so I won't be updating as often. I apologize in advance for any long waits. This is a short chapter, but it's more of a prologue to see how this story is gonna go. I would appreciate some feedback to help me decide if I'm going to continue, and if so, how I should continue.**

**Without further ado, here's the chapter!**

* * *

She wasn't entirely sure what woke her up.

Snow White's eyes fluttered open, and she stretched on top of her bed. Bigby groaned in his sleep as her shoulder dug into his chest. Snow smiled. It had been a while since she'd been able to have a good night's rest like that. She glanced at the clock that sat on the nightstand next to the bed and sighed. It was late. So late that it was early. She hadn't intended for Bigby to stay the night, but one thing just lead to another and…

Snow rolled over and rested her head on his chest. She heart the heavy _thump_ of his heart and closed her eyes, listening to its rhythmic beat.

_I'll have to go back to the office today_, she realized, feeling dread crawl into her stomach. After that day in her office, Snow had decided to take a few days off to recuperate. Boy Blue had recently returned from his trip to the Farm, and was able to take over business at the office for a while. It had barely been a week since Bloody Mary.

She didn't know what would happen when she returned to her work. When Bigby said he'd take some vacation days as well, everyone assumed that they were dating – which, technically, they were. But Snow couldn't go back to the office as a laughing stock, and all of this put her in a very difficult position.

Snow flexed the fingers of her left hand. Feeling had started to return to them. They were still a little stiff, but she knew it wouldn't be long until they were completely healed. She briefly wondered how Bigby's leg was doing. He didn't talk about it much, and he walked normally for the most part, but Snow caught a pained expression on his face every now and again. It seemed as if their experience with Mary left a few scars.

She heard a noise from downstairs, and her muscles tensed. Was that…singing?

"Bigby," she whispered. She looked at the werewolf, who was still fast asleep. "Bigby, wake up." But he only murmured in his sleep and rolled onto his side.

Snow cursed and raised herself into a sitting position, letting the silken sheets fall into her lap, exposing herself. She slipped out of bed and picked a random shirt off the floor to cover herself. _This is Bigby's_, she realized as she buttoned it while sneaking out of the room and down the staircase. As she descended to the floor below, she was able to hear the singing more clearly.

It was a soft, melodic voice that strung the notes together in a perfect tune. It took a little bit before Snow was able to make out the words.

"_He don't take no time to play, time to play, time to play. All he does is work all day. La-la-la-la-la_."

She paused at the foot of the stairs and looked around for a weapon. "I really should've woken him up," she said to herself as the voice continued to sing.

"_You can play and laugh and fiddle. Don't think you can make me sore. I'll be safe, and you'll be sorry when the wolf comes to your door_."

Snow's eyes rested on Clarent – the sword of peace from Arthurian legend. It hung on her wall, a gift that had been given to her a few decades ago as an award for her centuries of service. That would do. The mayor stepped forward and carefully took the blade from its stand, trying to be as quiet as possible. The steel hit one of the edges of its stand, and a sharp metal _ding _sounded through the room. The voice paused in its singing for a second, and Snow held her breath. But then, it continued its song.

"_Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf, the Big Bad Wolf, the Big Bad Wolf? Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? La-la-la-la-la_."

She turned the corner into the kitchen and froze. A woman was sitting on her kitchen table, dressed in jeans, a white tee, and combat boots. As Snow entered the room, the Fable turned her head, and the mayor gasped.

It was Mary, but not Mary. Her skin was cracked and misshapen, like a glass statue that had been sloppily glued back together. She smiled, the flesh around her lips making a sound like cracking glass.

"_You_!" Snow exclaimed, holding up the sword defensively.

But Mary made no move to get up and fight. Instead, she raised a broken finger to her lips. "Shush. This is my favorite part," she whispered before clearing her throat and singing, "_I'll punch him in the nose, I'll tie him in a knot, I'll kick him in the chin, we'll put him on the spot. La-la-la-la-la_." Then, the Fable cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "You know, I actually did all of that, save for the 'tying in the knot' bit. I'll put that on my to-do list."

"Enough," Snow said, taking a menacing step forward. "_How_ are you here? You were nothing but a pile of glass. We threw you down the Witching Well!"

Mary didn't answer, but gave Snow a condescending look. "Put the sword down, Snow. It's not going to do anything. I'm not really here."

The mayor blinked in confusion. "What do you mean? Am I dreaming?"

The other Fable waved her hand in a vague gesture, the glass around her wrist crunching noisily. "More or less. Point is, I can't hurt you and you can't hurt me. So there's really no reason for you to be waving that thing around like an idiot. You don't even know how to use it."

"I think I'll hold onto it if you don't mind," Snow said in a biting tone.

Mary only shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat," she said nonchalantly. She then swung her legs onto the table and leaned back so that she was lying down on its surface. Then, she proceeded to continue humming the song pleasantly. Snow stared at her, holding her sword cautiously and wondering what to do. Should she go back upstairs and try to wake Bigby? If she was really dreaming, then that wouldn't do much good.

She jumped when Mary suddenly decided to speak. "What? Are you surprised that I can sing? Don't forget that one version of my mundy tale is that I'm the ghost of Queen Mary I." She smiled to herself. "Queens are supposed to be able to sing, right?"

Snow snorted. "Honestly, I couldn't care less about your singing. I'm just wondering what you're doing in my dreams."

"Good on you, Snow. Asking the right questions."

"Just answer it."

"Alright, alright. No need to get snappy." Mary turned her head so that her bloodred eyes met Snow's icy blue. "I just wanted to tell you that it's not over."

"Is that a threat?" the mayor snarled, eyes narrowing.

At that, the other Fable laughed. "If it was a threat, it would be a pretty pathetic one. I'm dead, remember? No, I'm saying that your problems aren't over. There's a big storm coming for you, Mayor."

Snow scoffed. "I already know that. I know that there's a lot I need to do. You made damn well sure of that," she said coldly.

Mary gave her a doubtful look. "Aren't you supposed to be the smart one? Never mind," she said when the mayor opened her mouth to say something. "You're missing the big picture. I'm not talking about long office days or paperwork or anything like that. There are powerful forces at work here, and they're not going to rest until all of Fabletown is burned to the ground."

"I think you're missing a pretty big picture here, too, Mary," Snow said, trying to keep her voice steady. It took all of her strength not to swing at the Fable right then and there.

Mary raised an eyebrow. "What's that?" she asked.

"You're a murderer. A sick, sadistic psychopath who almost destroyed Fabletown not one week ago. Why should I believe a word you're saying?" Snow continued.

Mary frowned, her expression solemn. "I'm dead, Snow. My fight's over. Do I have any reason to lie?"

"Revenge," the mayor said automatically. "You don't like the fact that we beat you. So now you're here to distract us, to make sure that we don't get any rest after all the trouble you've caused us."

The Fable looked impressed. "OK, you have me there. But I'm not lying, as it turns out. There's something coming. Something big. And you don't have the power to stop it right now. That's why I'm here," she said.

"I don't believe you," Snow said simply.

Mary shrugged and rose from the table. She jumped down, her knees crackling as the glass shifted. "Whatever. It's your grave," replied. "Go back to your boyfriend and just ignore everything I said. It's not going to make me any more dead."

"Wait," Snow tried to say, but everything started to get fuzzy. The entire kitchen seemed to melt together and swirl around her head.

The mayor awoke with a gasp. She was still in bed, her fists clenched by her side. She looked over at the clock. 4:30.

Bigby opened his eyes and shifted his weight beside her. "Snow, are you OK?" he asked, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

"What? Um, yeah," she said quietly. She looked down at the werewolf. His expression was soft, concerned. Simply looking into his warm, brown eyes made Snow's heart slow down a little. "Just a weird dream," she said.

"You wanna talk about it?"

She managed a small smile. "No, it's nothing. Go back to sleep."

Bigby looked doubtful. He could probably smell how troubled she was, but decided against mentioning. He nodded and rolled over, shutting his eyes once more.

Snow laid back down beside him and snuggled close, but sleep could not find her. She kept thinking back to Mary's words. _There are powerful forces at work._

_They're not going to rest until all of Fabletown is burned to the ground_.


	2. Strangers With Familiar Faces

**A/N: Hello, dear readers of mine! Here's the next chapter, and I'm trying to make up for the shortness of the last one. Sorry if it's a little slow, but I promise next chapter will have some more excitement in it. I do have good news: GUESS WHO FOUND ALL OF THE FABLES COMICS AT HER LOCAL LIBRARY AND JUST FINISHED ISSUE 69 BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! Oodles of love go to FineChyna, who helped me write this chapter. For more awesome, check out her story "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?"**

**To Love and HeartBreak21: It is good to be back :) Also, I do love Snow, even more now that I've read more about her in the comics. I want to try and give her a chance to develop her character in this story, since I didn't really do a lot of that in Animals.**

**To FineChyna: That's actually pretty funny, cause I freaked out when I saw your review, I was so happy. I'll see what I can do for Chyna, but to be fair, I honestly have no idea where this fic is going to take me. Love ya!**

**To babyhorsewriter: I missed you, too. And to answer your question, it's going to take place through both of their eyes. Like Animals, I'm going to change the point of view from time to time to better suit the chapter content. I plan on having a lot more Snow in this story, but don't worry. You're going to get plenty of Bigby ;)**

**To MrMeatbag: Thank you, I sure hope it turns out OK.**

**To Chloe Bayliff: I most certainly will, thanks to your support!**

**To TheKittenAuthor: I just added her as a little present to FineChyna in the last story, so she didn't affect the plot at all. I'm currently debating how I might incorporate her into this story. If I do, she's probably not going to have a big part.**

**To LostHero171: Haha, I really hope I can deliver! Thank you so much for the review!**

**To KMSaum: Wow, you went through Animals pretty fast. I'm going to have to update extra often now!**

**To DopeFresh54: Thank you! Please let me know if you have any questions or critiques about the chapters. I could really use all the help I can get.**

**To Chibimax: To be honest, neither did I. But gosh, I just have this writing project that is boring as all heck, and I needed something to have fun with. Plus, I really missed all you guys.**

* * *

It took forever to convince Bigby to go back to his apartment before heading down to the offices. She had told him to change his shirt, that he smelled like shit. But that wasn't it. If both Snow and Bigby had come out of the same apartment first thing in the morning… It wouldn't have looked very good.

The elevator halted to the 9th floor, and the doors opened to reveal a short man in a security guard outfit. The mayor gave a start. "Grimble!" she exclaimed.

The man tipped his hat and stepped into the elevator. "Morning, Miss Snow," he greeted. "How are you feeling?" he asked as the doors closed behind him. He pressed the button to the lobby, and they resumed their descent.

"Fine, thank you," she replied. "It was nice to take a few days off."

"And now, once more into the fray."

Snow offered him a half smile. "Pretty much," she said. She looked up at the glowing red number above the buttons, watching them count down. 8, 7, 6…

The security guard looked around. "So where's Bigby? Shouldn't he be riding down with you?" he asked casually.

The mayor looked puzzled. "Bigby? I imagine he'd be in his apartment."

Grimble tried to hide his laugh. "What, and you wouldn't know?"

Snow frowned and said, "Well, he did spend the night there, so –"

"Yeah, I bet he did," the guard chuckled.

The mayor's eyes widened angrily at that comment. "Now, wait just one minute!" she started to say, but the elevator dinged, and the doors opened to the 3rd floor.

"Isn't this your stop?" Grimble asked innocently. The mayor huffed in response and stomped out of the elevator. She heard the guard laughing quietly to himself as the door closed, and she prayed that no one could see her cheeks flush.

She found her way into the office. Before office hours, it always seemed too quiet on the 3rd floor of the Woodlands. As much as Snow hated the endless stream of Fables coming to complain about their lives, at least it gave her some kind of distraction. Being left to her own thoughts was worse than the constant harassment. All she could do was remember. Remember Crane and the Crooked Man, Bloody Mary and the Homelands.

After moving to the mundy world, everyone tried so hard to forget what happened in the old days. The General Amnesty helped, ensuring that all passed crimes were forgiven, but it seemed as if no matter where Snow went, all the bad things were intent on following her.

She jumped when a voice sounded from behind her. "Hello, Miss White," it said.

The mayor turned to see Bufkin flapping down and landing on her desk. He looked at her with his black eyes, and Snow tried to keep from staring at the thin line that ran across his belly where no fur grew. She remembered finding him bloody and half-dead right across from that very desk. For most other Fables, the scar would have disappeared by then, but the green monkey didn't heal as quickly as others did. Nobody remembered the name of a tiny, insignificant flying monkey from the land of Oz, so it was all too easy for him to get injured.

"How was your vacation?" he asked, pulling the mayor from her thoughts.

"It was fine," Snow replied, rubbing her arm awkwardly. "Not much happened."

"I hope you're ready for a busy day!" he continued brightly. Before the mayor had the chance to reply, Bufkin made to fly away. "If there's anything I can help you with, just call. I'll be here all day."

"Actually, there is one thing," Snow said quickly. The monkey faultered, and she saw his face adopt a trouble expression for a brief moment. But he hid it immediately after, and was smiling once more when he turned to face her.

"Yes?"

Snow cleared her throat before saying carefully, "Is there any chance that Bloody Mary is still alive? That she could have somehow survived that night at the factory?"

Bufkin's smile evaporated. "Oh," he murmured. His hand traveled subconsciously to his stomach, his finger gently tracing his scar. There was a few seconds of silence before he answered. "No," he said. "At least, I don't think so. While the manner of her death was unusual, the result was ultimately the same as it would've been if we had…well, if Bigby had died. Even if the silver bullet didn't kill her entirely, the fall into the Witching Well should have." He looked up at her with black eyes. "The Well leads to a land that is no place for the living. Nobody can come back from that," he finished.

The mayor sighed in relief. So it was just a dream.

"Why the sudden curiosity?" Bufkin asked.

"No reason," she responded, a little too quickly. "I just wanted to make sure."

The monkey nodded slowly. "You can never be too careful," he said in agreement.

"Right," Snow said, smiling slightly. "Anyway, thank you. I feel a lot better now."

Bufkin didn't return the smile. He turned his back on her, still scratching at his scar absentmindedly. "Have a good day, Miss White," he said in a soft voice, flapping his wings. Then, he was off, flying higher into the air until he almost touched the ceiling, and then disappearing between the tall bookshelves.

As soon as the monkey was out of sight, Snow left the office and made her way out of the office and into the elevator. She pushed the button the basement and was grateful when it carried her straight down, with no stops in between.

Soon enough, the door opened, and the mayor stepped out. It was dank and cold in the basement. Pillars built of pale bricks sprouted from the hard, stone ground like dead trees. Snow walked across the floor, the sounds of her heels echoing loudly through the empty space. It was dark down there, barely light enough for the mayor to see where she was going. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, but even after that, Snow had to squint as she walked to keep from tripping over the uneven floor.

After a few minutes of walking, she came a section of the room illuminated by flickering torches. In the middle of a small square of space, the Witching Well stood.

It was short, and from the same pale grey stones as the floor and the columns. Snow placed her hands on its rim and peered over the edge, into the dark gloom that stretched on for eternity. It was like a black hole in the middle of the Woodlands, a portal to the gates of the underworld. She didn't like coming down here. The basement always had an eerie atmosphere, but something compelled the mayor to look deeper into the Well. She couldn't explain it.

_Bloody Mary is down there_, she thought to herself. _So is Colin, and the Crooked Man, and Bluebeard…_ She found herself making a list of all the Fables that had died in the past few weeks. The higher the number got, the lonelier she felt.

Her eyes started to sting, and her vision began to blur. Snow saw a single crystalline tear fall from her face, dropping down into the Well. She sniffed. How many more Fables would have to die before they could finally have some peace? How many more enemies would they have to face?

"Snow."

The mayor turned her head to see Bigby walking towards her, a cigarette wedged between his teeth. She hurried to wipe the remainder of her tears away before the werewolf stepped into the light. "What are you doing down here?" As he spoke, the werewolf took the cigarette between his index and middle finger and dropped it to the ground, then rubbed it into the stone floor with the sole of his shoe.

Snow glanced down at her shoes. Every time she was around Bigby, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, and she had no idea why. "How did you know I was here?" she asked. She was surprised by how much her voice quivered.

"You weren't in your office. And, well…" he trailed off awkwardly. Then came forward and placed one hand gently on her arm. "What's wrong? You're so upset, I could smell it from two floors up."

Snow placed her hand on top of his, comforted by his touch. "Nothing's wrong. I just needed to think for a little bit."

"About Bloody Mary?" Bigby asked. At the mayor's shocked expression, he added, "I talked to Bufkin." He peered closer at Snow when she looked away, her expression almost ashamed. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Snow insisted. "It's just…I had a weird dream about her last night. That's all."

His reaction was immediate. Bigby stepped towards the mayor, as if trying to defend her from an invisible attacker. "A dream? Like a hallucination?" he said in a low voice. "Did she attack you? Were you hurt?"

"No! Bigby, stop that!" Snow stepped away, her hands up in a defensive gesture. "It wasn't anything like that. Not like what you went through. I had a dream, and she was there. That's it, I promise."

The sheriff didn't look convinced. "What was she doing in the dream?" he pressed.

The mayor hesitated. "Just…singing," she said finally.

Bigby gave her a strange look. "Singing," he repeated in a flat tone.

"Yes. Singing." Snow scratched the back of her head. "It was just strange."

The werewolf didn't seem convinced. "If it was just some weird dream, then why did you ask Bufkin about it?" he asked.

"I panicked, alright? It seems as if we haven't been able to get a moment's rest, and. You can't be too careful." The lie came easily enough, and Snow tried to stay calm, to keep the guilt from finding its way into her voice.

She wasn't entirely if Bigby believed her or simply recognized that she didn't want to talk about it, but he didn't press her. He only sighed and took Snow's hand in his. His palm was rough with calluses. "I know it's going to take some time to adjust," he began with difficulty. Comforting others wasn't the werewolf's forte. "But you're strong, and you're smart, and I know we can get through this. Together."

"Yeah," Snow said quietly. She looked back over at the Witching Well, a cold chill crawling up her back. "Together."

There was a moment when neither of them spoke, but then Bigby gave Snow's hand a squeeze. "Let's get out of here. This place gives me the creeps," he said.

"That sounds like a good plan," the mayor replied. Hand in hand, they turned their back on the well and made their way to the elevator. As they ascended the floors, Snow sighed. "The office opens in about a half hour. I don't know how I'm going to be able to handle it," she admitted.

"If past experiences are anything to go by, you're one of the few people who can handle it," Bigby said reassuringly. At Snow's troubled expression, he tried again. "The day's going to be over before you know it. And if you're still feeling down, then maybe we can go out for dinner or something."

Then, Snow finally managed to smile. "Dinner? Well, look at you, Mister Romantic." The sheriff's face had begun to soften in return when the elevator doors opened, and he turned to see Jack running towards them, Boy Blue in close pursuit.

The mayor was thoroughly confused. "Jack? What are you doing here?" she asked.

The other Fable stepped forward to keep the doors from closing. Boy Blue managed to say, "I'm sorry, Miss White. I tried to stop him, but he just took off." Then, Jack cut him off.

"Guys, I really need to talk to you. I just got jumped," he said, his expression serious.

Snow pursed her lips. "You should really talk to us about this during office hours. We have an entire waiting list – "

"Look, sorry if I interrupted you're honeymoon – "

"Watch it," Bigby said in a warning tone.

" – but this is serious! I was fighting for my life!"

The mayor eyed Jack up and down. He wore his usual ratty T shirt and denim vest, but appeared to be unharmed. "Fighting for your life?" Bigby said doubtfully, voicing her thoughts.

The Fable somehow managed to completely miss the sheriff's sarcasm, and nodded vigorously. The elevator doors tried once more to close, but he pushed them back. "There were like six of them, and they had axes, swords, clubs… It was crazy," he said.

Snow pinched the bridge of her nose. It was way too early for headaches like this. "Alright, did you see who they were?"

Again, Jack nodded. "Goblins," he said in a sure voice.

Nobody spoke for a few seconds. Boy Blue shifted nervously in his spot, obviously embarrassed, and Snow was too shocked to speak. It was Bigby who broke the silence. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked angrily. "Jack, we don't need any of your games. Just go home."

The Fable looked taken aback. "I'm not making this up! I was attacked by a bunch of goblins!" His eyes flicked between Snow's face and Bigby's, trying desperately to convince them. The doors tried to close again, and he made an exasperated noise. "Can you guys get out of the elevator now? This is getting annoying."

Reluctantly, the werewolf obliged and stepped into the hallway, Snow following behind him. "Listen," he said, "I know you're probably bored and you think this is funny, but Snow and I have actual work to do. So if you could just – "

"What did the goblins look like? Was it anyone from Fabletown?" Snow asked, finally finding her voice.

Both Boy Blue and Bigby looked at her incredulously as Jack answered, "No. I mean, I'm not sure. They were completely decked out in Homelands stuff. I'm talking chainmail and breastplates."

"Snow, you're not seriously buying this," Bigby tried to say, but the mayor motioned for him to be silent.

"Where were you attacked?" she continued. She tried to keep her expression from showing how nervous she was. _There's a big storm coming for you_.

"Um…" He scratched the back of his head. Obviously, he hadn't expected Snow to actually believe him. "Just outside the Lucky Pawn."

Snow nodded slowly. "Blue, please take Jack to my office. I need to talk to Bigby." The Fable jumped on the opportunity to escape.

"No problem, Miss Snow," he said. He grabbed Jack by the arm and lead him down the hall as the other Fable gave a squawk of protest.

Once they were out of sight, the mayor turned to Bigby, who was staring at her like she'd just fallen from the sky. "I need you to check it out," she told him.

"Snow, let's be serious for a second. This is Jack we're talking about. He's making it up," he insisted.

"I'm not so sure about that," the mayor responded.

"You saw him. He said that he was in a fight, but he barely had a scratch on him!"

Snow looked away and bit her lip, debating whether or not she should listen to him, but deciding against it. Even if Bigby was right, and Jack was lying, she couldn't rest easy until she was certain that there was nothing going on. Her mind travelled back to her dream, to Bloody Mary's words. "My guess is that he saw the goblins and ran the other way. That's the most probable explanation."

Bigby exhaled sharply, trying to contain his frustration. "Look, if it's nothing, then at least we would have made sure. I just want to be careful," Snow tried again. The werewolf eyed her wearily.

"Fine," he said. "I'll check it out. But if I'm right, then you're buying dinner."

Snow rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous," she said playfully.

"I know," he returned before turning back toward the elevator. As the doors opened, he looked over his shoulder at the mayor. "You'll be fine here without me?" he asked.

She snorted. "I think I'll manage."

He stepped into the lift with a smile and pushed the button for the lobby. Then, he stared at Snow for a second before saying, "I love you."

She opened her mouth to say it back, but hesitated. The doors closed before she could speak.


	3. A Gift to Troy

**A/N: Hello, my friends! So sorry about the wait. I would have had this update a few hours earlier, but I had to go grocery shopping, so yeah. Anyway, here's the next chapter for you all! Please enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

**To RiverFang12: Oh my gosh, I missed you! Please don't cry, but I'm super glad you like the story so far.**

**To FineChyna: There's no need to be worried. Unless there is. In which case, continue to be worried. But don't worry because there isn't any reason to! Of course, I could be lying. I guess you'll just have to read and find out.**

**To trutriide and Zacharti: Thank you! I'm getting the warm fuzzies.**

**To babyhorsewriter: And the next chapter you shall have.**

**To LostHero171: I'm afraid I can't comment on the Jack thing, for fear of spoiling the chapter. But I really appreciate that you like the changed POV idea.**

**To TheKittenAuthor: sorry, Bigby...**

* * *

The closer Bigby got to the pawn shop, the more he thought about Jack's supposed "attack." And the more he thought about that, the more concerned he got. Why would Jack make something like that up? How could he possibly profit from that? He wasn't the type of Fable who would just come up with some trick for kicks and giggles.

So if he was telling the truth, then that meant that there was actually a band of goblins roaming the streets of Fabletown. Bigby frowned and looked out the window of the taxi. The goblins themselves didn't trouble him that much. They might be scary to look at, but the average lesser goblin wasn't hard to beat. No, what actually concerned the sheriff was how they got into the mundy world.

There was an open portal somewhere in Fabletown. And if a band of goblins could get through, then an army could, too.

The taxi halted in front of the pawn shop, and Bigby paid the driver and got out without saying a word. The street was unusually quiet. The werewolf tried to wave the fact away. _It's early_, he thought. But after a brief moment, he looked around his surroundings once more. There was nobody in sight, not even a damn pigeon. _Well…not that early_.

He entered the Lucky Pawn and looked around suspiciously. The shop was completely empty. No customers, no clerk. The werewolf glanced back at a poster that hung next to the door, listing the hours. Funny. It should have opened by then. "Jersey?" he called. No answer. Of course not.

He considered lighting a cigarette, but decided against it. He'd need his senses clear if he was going to find out what happened. Bigby stepped across the room, eying the display cases and the contents within them. He peered through the glass. There was an assortment of artifacts lined within on top of cushions and on top of stands. Some were magic, others weren't.

The werewolf leaned in close and sniffed the display case, then immediately recoiled at the dank, fungal stench that coated the glass panels. Yep, there had definitely been at least three goblins messing with the stuff in there.

He jumped over to the other side of the cases and bent down to examine the items within them. His eyes rested on a slim silver ring, fitted with a polished obsidian stone. Bigby picked it up, noticing the intricate design of Celtic knots engraved in its surface. It radiated raw magical power. He'd been around enough witches to recognize a cursed ring when it was around.

The ring itself was a pretty bit of jewelry, but what was more interesting about it was that it still circled around a finger, withered and with skin that was tinged yellow and paper-thin. The sheriff grimaced and shook his head. _Can't get distracted_, he reminded himself, setting the severed finger back on its tiny cushion.

He scanned the rest of the display cases carefully and growled in frustration. Nothing seemed off except for the goblin smell. So why was the entire shop empty?

Bigby pinched the bridge of his nose. _Think!_ he urged himself. _There's gotta be something…_

He turned around and glanced over the walls, which looked like an overcrowded page in a psycho-killer's scrapbook. There were regular things hung on the walls, like road signs, books, and musical instruments, but there were also countless weapons and magical items that were too big to fit in the cases. The sheriff rubbed his chin thoughtfully. What could he be looking for?

Finally, a thought occurred to him. His eyes swept over the crowded wall once more until they settled on a single spot – an empty stand. Every inch of wall space was used up except for that one stand. Bigby squinted and took a step closer. There was a tiny label next to one of the bottom hooks of the stand that read "Sharur, 'Smasher of Thousands.'"

"Smasher of Thousands." Now that didn't sound good.

Bigby sniffed at the stand. The goblin smell was more prominent around there, almost fresher. He turned around and inhaled deeply, then came to a realization. The smell was all over the place because whatever had been sitting in that stand had been used all across the room. And the scent trail all lead to…

The sheriff looked at the closet at the very back of the room, grabbed it by its side, and shoved. The closet moved easily, revealing a tiny door hidden behind it. "Secret room," he grumbled to himself. "Why does everybody have a secret room?"

He grasped the knob. He expected it to be locked, but it turned with ease. Frowning, the werewolf entered the separate room.

It was small and unlit. It basically just consisted of a tiny desk and a minifridge that was no doubt filled with booze. But that wasn't what peaked the sheriff's interest. What attracted his attention was the limp, motionless body of the Jersey Devil lying on the far side of the room.

"What the fuck?" Bigby muttered as he rushed to the Fable's side. He rolled the body over onto its back and winced. The head was battered and misshapen. Several parts were beaten until they were swollen to three times their size, and other parts looked caved in, as if someone had bashed in his skull. "Fuck, Jersey. What did this to you?" he said quietly.

The sheriff sat back in a kneeling position and took a deep breath. Another dead Fable. Snow wouldn't be happy to hear about that.

All of a sudden, Jersey opened what remained of his mouth and emitted a disjointed groan.

Bigby jumped backwards, shocked by the sudden movement. His surprise didn't last long, though, and he was back at the Fable's side within a second. "Jersey, can you hear me? It's Bigby," he said.

Another groan, and then he managed to say what could be interpreted as, "Bigby? You motherfucker," but sounded more like, "Bibehh? Yeh madafada."

The werewolf snorted, not entirely sure if he was glad that the slimy bastard was still alive. "Yeah, I'm glad to see you, too," he said, "but you can stop flirting now. Just tell me where the goblins went."

In response, Jersey spit some blood onto the floor and groaned once more.

Bigby had to keep from rolling his eyes. This was going to be difficult. "I know I'm not your favorite person in the world, but I am trying to help you. I need to know where the goblins are. They took something from the shop, right? The 'Smasher of Thousands?' I assume that's what all _this_ is," he tried again, gesturing to the Fable's ruined face.

At mention of the weapon, Jersey seemed to wake up a little bit. He gave an involuntary twitch and started to grasp desperately at Bigby's sleeve. The werewolf's lip curled, using all of his self-control to keep from jerking his arm away.

The Fable pulled himself closer to the sheriff. His eyes, which were mostly swollen shut looked wild and panicked. The ruins of his face contorted painfully, and his bleeding lips moved, forming unintelligible words. After a few desperate wheezes, he found his voice. "Nehhd….jerd duh gubluhs…Sharuh…" he croaked, his hands clenching until they trembled.

Bigby nodded. "Sharur? Yeah, that's the weapon. Where is it? What did the goblins do with it?"

But Jersey wasn't calming down. He hacked, spitting out another mouthful of blood. "Nehhd jerd duh gubluhs…nehhd..."

The werewolf exhaled sharply, trying to keep his patience. "What are you talking about?" he said articulately. "I can't understand you!"

"Nehhd jerd duh gubluhs!" the other Fable insisted.

"What?"

"Jaaaack!" he wheezed.

"Jack?" Bigby raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Jaack Huruhnuh!"

The sheriff's eyes widened as he began to understand. "Jack Horner," he muttered. "I gotta tell Snow!" He jumped to his feet and whirled around, preparing to bolt through the door.

But the door was gone. In its place stood the goblins. Not three, not six, but at least a dozen. They were dressed in typical Homelands armor – that much Jack hadn't been lying about. Each of them carried their own weapons, and assortment of dirks, clubs, and axes. They growled at Bigby between jagged yellow teeth, their blazing orange eyes narrowed angrily.

"Well, shit," Bigby said as they attacked.

* * *

Snow sat at her desk, massaging her temples. "Jack, I can't help you unless you're honest with me," she sighed. "So let's try again. Were there any other witnesses to the goblin attack? It happened right outside the Lucky Pawn, right? Where was Jersey?"

Jack sat in the chair opposite the desk, lounging across it lazily. "How the hell am I supposed to know? Do you think I was paying that much attention to my surrounding while I was fighting for my life?" he demanded angrily.

"I think we already sorted out that you weren't fighting for your life, Jack," the mayor said in a flat tone.

"And how would you know?"

"You're not injured in the slightest! Your knuckles aren't even bruised!"

The other Fable huffed angrily. "Well sorry I didn't get myself injured enough for you. Maybe I should go back there and challenge them to a rematch. Don't worry, I'll be sure to get myself a pretty shiner this time," he said sardonically, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair.

Snow shook her head, taking deep breaths. She was careful to keep her voice level when she said, "You do realize that this is vital to the capture of the goblins? We need to know how much damage they caused. Then, we can track the pattern of destruction to find out where they are now."

Jack looked confused. "But I already told you that they were at the Lucky Pawn," he said.

This time, the mayor couldn't contain herself. She stood up abruptly and walked around the desk, eying Jack furiously. "OK, Jack. Do you know what these are?" she asked, pointing to her feet.

"I don't see how this is going to help," the other Fable said doubtfully.

"Just answer the damn question," Snow snapped.

Jack shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "They're legs," he said.

"That's right. And do you know what legs are used for?" she continued, leaning in close and crossing her arms.

"Um…walking?"

Snow brightened and smiled, but didn't seem very genuine. "Good job! Now, about these goblins that you were fighting oh-so-heroically. Can you tell me if they had legs?" she asked.

"Well, yeah," Jack said.

"So do you think that it is at all possible," she continued, "that the goblins could have moved somewhere else since you last saw them?"

Jack made a face. "You've been hanging around Bigby for too long," he said unhappily.

The mayor stood up straight and walked back to her desk. "He knows how to get a point across," she said simply, sitting back down in her chair. She sighed, suddenly tired. She wished Bigby was there. He was better at interrogation than she was.

That's when Jack suddenly decided to speak up. "For the record," he said, "I don't think the goblins left the Lucky Pawn."

"Why is that?" she asked wearily.

"Because then they wouldn't be able to ambush Bigby when he got there."

The mayor froze. Very slowly, she lifted her head to look at Jack. He was still sitting in the armchair, but this time he was holding a mace about the size of his arm. It was made from tarnished steel, and its black leather hilt was cracked and worn. It ended with a diamond-shaped head that was lined with dull-looking spikes along its ribs.

Jack held the mace up and inspected its spikes nonchalantly. "Actually, they probably already ambushed him. He should be dead by now. After all, you disgusting bags of meat bruise pretty easily," he said, his tone casual.

"What have you done with Jack?" Snow said, trying to keep her voice from quivering. She was stock still, not daring to even twitch.

Jack – or whoever he was – shrugged. "Nothing. He's probably out planning one of his big money schemes or something. I don't really care. I just needed his form so I could get into the offices. And, you know, so I could get close enough to bash your skull in with my buddy here," he said, wiggling the mace for emphasis.

Snow's eyes flicked to the weapon, and the imposter smiled. "Do you like him? His name's Sharur. It literally means 'Smasher of Thousands.' He's old as fuck, but he can still get a job done."

"Who are you?" the mayor asked. She tried to slide her hand under the desk subtly, reaching for the gun she kept in one of the drawers.

But the imposter saw the motion, and his smile widened into a full-out grin. "I don't see how it matters. You'll be dead within seconds," he said before launching himself at Snow with incredible speed.

She threw herself from the chair, and heard the mace reduce it to splinters a split second later. She jumped to her feet and started sprinting towards the elevator.

Suddenly, a crippling force took her from the side. She flew through the air and landed a good ten yards away. Snow clutched her side. Definitely some broken ribs there. She heard footsteps coming towards her quickly and rolled over three times to avoid the mace from shattering the floor where her head had just been.

The mayor rose to her feet and gasped as her side screamed in objection. She lifted her head. Jack was stalking towards her, a crooked smile on his face. "Come on, meat," he crowed, swinging the mace cheerily. "It will only hurt for a second."

She staggered away and picked up the only thing that was in arm's reach – a wooden buckler. As Jack brought his weapon down, she held the shield over her head. It must have been protected by some kind of magic; it held as the head of the mace beat down on its center. It impact was jarring, and Snow's arm shook under the strain.

The imposter stumbled as the mace bounced back, giving Snow enough time to secure her grip on the shield. Without any hesitation, she struck him across the face with it. On a regular Fable, it would have taken off at least half of their cheek. On him, it made his entire head spin around.

Snow's jaw dropped, but she didn't have more than two seconds before Jack swung towards her once more with the mace. Thinking quickly, she jumped out of the way and jerked the buckler in an upwards motion, catching the imposter under the chin. His head came clean off.

The body froze up before dropping to the ground as the head rolled across the floor. Snow stood in front of the headless form, holding the buckler defensively. "What the hell…what the hell…" she whispered to herself.

Slowly, still holding the shield, the mayor stepped forward and poked the body with her toe. It didn't move. She dropped down to her knees, trembling and gripping the edges of the buckler until her knuckles turned white. "What the hell…" she said again. It was a puppet, a wooden puppet.

Just then, she remembered what Jack had said barely two minutes before. "Bigby," she whispered.


	4. Through the Looking Glass

**A/N: Yes, I know this chapter is a few days late, but I did warn you that the updates might take a while. Today was my first day of school, and I barely had the energy to get this chapter done. I'm really sorry about how short it is, but hopefully, it's still kid of good.**

**To Riverfang12: Well, I'm really glad that you made it. I hope you like the story.**

**To LostHero171: Not so much Chucky. Think Pinocchio.**

**To FineChyna: GAAAAAH I'm SO sorry my update wasn't...well...soon. As always, I love your reviews, and I am really gonna try to stay on top of this story for you. Lets see if this is a task I can complete without withering up and dying.**

**To MrMeatbag: Yeah, I was originally going to have Boy Blue swoop in and kill the puppet with the vorpal blade, but then I thought, "You know what? Snow deserves a chance." Thanks for reviewing.**

**To TheKittenAuthor: Perhaps.**

* * *

"Faster! Drive faster!" Snow urged Woody from the back seat.

"I got an idea. Why don't _you _try speeding through mundy traffic at the start of the fucking work week?" the woodsman snapped, jerking the steering wheel this way and that to avoid colliding with other vehicles as they weaved in between them.

As soon as Snow had decapitated the Jack Horner look-alike, she'd called Woody from his apartment two floors above the offices. If Bigby was in danger, then she'd need all the muscle that she could spare. They had left within minutes, leaving Boy Blue and Bufkin to look after the business office.

"We don't have a lot of time," the mayor insisted. "If we don't hurry, then – Right! Take that right _now_!" She screamed when the woodsman twisted the wheel around and slammed on the gas pedal.

"Quit yelling at me! I know how to get to the Lucky Pawn, alright?" he shouted. When Snow didn't answer, he turned around to see her fingers clutching her side with her eyes shut tight. "You OK?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she responded through gritted teeth.

"You should've gone to the hospital," Woody said, turning his eyes to the road.

"Not enough time. Fuck, you missed your turn. That was a left back there." In response, the woodsman yanked the wheel to the left, turning the car in a complete 180. "Jesus Christ!" the mayor screeched. "There was a no U-turn sign!"

"What?" the woodsman said doubtfully. "No there wasn't."

"Yes, there was. When was the last time you actually drove a car?"

He paused for a moment. "I want to say late 50's. Now shut up, we're almost there," he said. He floored the gas once more, and a Volkswagen honked at them furiously as they sped passed a red light. "Hey, fuck you!" Woody screamed out the window as they passed another angry driver.

"You're going to kill us!" Snow said hysterically. She was clinging to the sides of the seat for dear life, an expression of pure terror on her face.

"You wanted me to go faster. Wait, there it is!" The woodsman's eyes brightened. He swerved and slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt alongside the pawn shop. Woody took a moment to breathe before turning around and saying to Snow, "Are you OK?"

The mayor's eyes were bulging, looking up at the heavens frantically, as if she were praying for some omnipotent force to swoop down and carry her away from this terror. But when Woody spoke, she seemed to snap out of it. She swallowed. "Yeah," she said in a quivering voice. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Then come on!" the woodsman said, leaping out of the car with his axe in hand. Snow took a deep breath before grabbing her silver-loaded pistol and following Woody into the pawn shop. Silver didn't have any special effect on goblins, but bullets were bullets, and they were all she had on hand.

Together, Snow and Woody burst in through the front doors, poised to attack. Their eyes scanned the store suspiciously, looking for any sign of trouble, but all was still. There wasn't a speck of dirt out of place. Snow kept her pistol raised, but Woody slowly began to lower his ask. "Are we early?" he said, raising an eyebrow and scratching the back of his head.

"I…I don't know," the mayor replied after some hesitation. Not lowering her guard, she looked around once more. "I don't want any surprises," she said. "It looks like there's a back room next to that closet over there. You check that out, and I'll see if there are any clues in here."

Woody nodded at her and went to inspect the room. Once he was through the doorway, Snow proceeded to walk around the pawn shop. She stopped in front of an empty stand on the wall. After reading the label, she muttered to herself, "I guess this is where the mace came from." _After this, I need to take every ancient weapon in here and find a place for them in the Archives. They're not safe for the public_, she thought solemnly. Snow turned away from the stand and glanced around the room. Then, she let loose a frustrated grunt.

"I don't get it!" she said out loud. "Where's the carnage, the signs of struggle? Jack said there was an ambush." When she received no answer, Snow looked back at the door to the back room suspiciously. "Woody?" she called out. Again, only silence.

The mayor stepped closer to the room, her finger resting lightly on the trigger of her pistol. "Are you in there?" she asked again. Another few steps, and she turned the corner into the room.

It was a small room, and completely bare save for a desk that was smashed in two and a minifridge that was embedded in the wall. The walls and ceiling were made of concrete, and Woody knelt on top of the wooden floorboards, examining something on the far side of the room. "What is that?" Snow asked him, silently thanking God that he was alright.

The woodsman glanced over his shoulder and stood up, revealing a long bloodstain that ran across the panels of the floor. "Oh my God," the mayor breathed, stepping up beside Woody to get a better view.

"It's all I could find here," he said, his tone confused. No body, no goblins, no Bigby." He turned and met Snow's frosty blue eyes. "This place is completely empty," he said.

* * *

_15 minutes earlier…_

Bigby was already halfway morphed when the first goblin reached him. As the monster swung his battle axe above his head, he raked his claws along its throat. Its eyes bulged, and it emitted a strangled croak before crumpling to the floor.

The rest of the goblins came all at once, weapons raised. They snarled and howled as Bigby jumped over their heads. He landed towards the back of the mob, pinning one of the creatures down beneath either feet and then whirling around to start slashing at the others who had turned to face him. A chained mace went flying towards his head. He ducked to avoid it, then grasped the chain and spun the mace around, taking out three goblins before another one tackled him from the side.

The werewolf landed with an _oof_, snarling furiously when the goblin straddled him and began to stab into his abdomen with a long, curved dagger. He managed to roll over, causing it to fall off him, but two more goblins were already there. They grabbed his arms and legs, pinning him down and another one ran towards him with a dirk.

Quickly, Bigby felt himself start to change. Grey fur sprouted all over his body, his bones began to grown, and his muscles bulked up. He bucked and kicked two of the goblins away from his feet before raising his massive arms and hurling the other two towards the other side of the room.

All of a sudden, a terrible screech filled the air. Bigby turned around to see Jersey awake and in full Devil form. He was wasting goblins left and right, gauging out their eyes with his clawed hands and biting out their throats with his skeletal teeth. His skull was cracked, with a few bony chunks missing. Without a doubt, he looked like shit, but that didn't seem to keep him from the fight. Noticing that he was being observed, the Fable turned around and hissed at the sheriff, "You just gonna stand there?"

With an enraged roar, Bigby lunged forward and grabbed a goblin's head with one massive hand, crushing it into gravel. He took the corpse and threw it at a cluster of the creatures, then paused, confused. The wolfman glanced around, silently counting the goblins that filled the room. There were too many…more than there were before…

He didn't have much time to contemplate that before another monster jumped onto his back, digging its claws into his shoulder. He reached over and grasped it by its throat. He then swung it over his head, using it to plow through some of the other goblins, but it didn't seem to be of any use. Every time one of the creatures fell, another came forward. It was like they were coming out of nowhere.

_No. Not nowhere_, Bigby realized. _Out of the portal_. The werewolf looked up at the ceiling and squinted, looking for any sign of the portal. At first, nothing. Then his wolf vision focused on a large spot towards one corner of the room. There was a swirling vortex of bright blue energy. From the center of the portal, more and more monsters were pouring out, each with its own weapon and body armor.

At that moment, another five goblins came at him, yowling. The sheriff grabbed one by the legs and flung it over his shoulder. He heard a sharp, splintering sound as its body crashed into the desk, splitting it in two. Bigby didn't have enough time to move before the other four were on him, slashing with their weapons. He felt them dig into his flesh, causing crimson blood to spill and clot in his grey fur.

The wolfman bellowed, and shredded through the attackers in less than a second, but an instant later, he another heap was running his way. One of them dropped to the ground when it was caught across the face with a flying minifridge that then buried itself in the wall. Bigby turned around to see Jersey grinning wickedly before continuing his fight with the surrounding creatures.

There were countless goblins in the room now, so many that there was barely any open ground left. Bigby backed himself against the wall, panting and growling angrily. There was no hope. He couldn't possibly beat them, not in that form. He began to transform. His fur grew out and his hands shaped themselves into paws.

It wasn't until he was almost in full wolf form that Bigby realized a problem. He couldn't fit. As his limbs enlarged, he started shoving the goblins back, compressing them, squeezing them against his arms and legs. He heard Jersey yelling at the top of his lungs, "Bigby, stop! I can't fucking breathe!"

But he couldn't stop, not when he was almost in full morph. Bigby felt his chest begin to tighten. His back was pressed against the roof, and the goblins where being shoved all along his underbelly, jabbing their weapons into his soft flesh. The werewolf felt his legs give out, and his entire body thudded to the ground. A second later, the goblins swarmed on top of him. He snarled and bit, ripping a few of them in half whenever they strayed too close to his mouth.

He couldn't breathe. Blood began to fill his mouth, and Bigby slowly realized it was his own. The creatures had begun to climb in between his jaws, stabbing at his gums and his tongue. He coughed and barked, but that only allowed more and more goblins to climb into his mouth.

He was being overcome. "Help!" he tried to choke out, but it was no use. No sound came out. Bigby looked frantically around the room, trying to find Jersey, but everything was so confusing. He couldn't tell the goblins apart. The air stank of blood, and the goblins' bloodthirsty screams filled his ears.

_Change back! Change back!_ Bigby urged himself, but it was no use. He couldn't move, couldn't think.

Red cobwebs started to creep into the corners of his vision, and the werewolf felt his throat begin to burn. His ears rang, his legs trembled, and his blood-soaked fur felt like it was weighing him down. The ceiling began to crack under the stress of Bigby's gigantic body.

Then, suddenly, he felt a huge pressure mount inside his lungs. The wolf's eyes widened with shock when the pressure built up until it screamed to be released. As if from reflex, Bigby huffed, puffed, and blew with all his might.

First, an unbelievable force crushing him from all size. The sheriff felt as if he was being grabbed from all sides and squeezed until he exploded. It was pain unlike anything he had felt before. The compression was unbearable.

And a second later, it was all gone. The wolf passed through a cold, open space. Blue mist flitted around him, flooding his surroundings. He was ascending, floating through eternity. It was almost peaceful.

But his lungs screamed and burned once more, and once again, he huffed, puffed, and blew. He blew with force that he had never had. It was like a tornado. The wind was all around him, angry and uncontrollable. His environment started to take form. He was in the middle of the sky, soaring above the tops of a forest, carried by the whirling force of the wind. The air was full of goblins. They were screaming and flailing about, but there was nothing they could do to fight against the power of the huff and puff.

That's when gravity took a hold of him. All of a sudden, Bigby was falling instead of flying. The goblins fell all around him, and he even saw Jersey's limp body crashing down a hundred yards away.

The wolf tried to summon another wind to carry him, but all that came out was a pathetic wheeze. All his air had been spent, and it took all of his strength not to pass out then and there.

The trees rushed up to meet him. Suddenly, the wolf was crashing through branches and leaves, grunting and shouting until he landed on the forest floor.

His body slammed into the ground with crippling force, knocking any wind that he had left out of his body. He lied on the ground, dazed and unable to move as he listened to the loud thud of the goblin's bodies landing all around him. Bigby waited for one of them to start attacking him, but none of them did. Either they were dead, or they were just as exhausted as he was.

The wolf's eyes scanned his surroundings. All he could see through his blurry vision was dirt and trees. He made a move to get up, but plopped back down to the ground, all his energy gone. Even then, his eyelids began to droop, and everything started to go dark.

One thing was for sure: he wasn't in New York anymore. What could have happened?

It took Bigby a moment to remember. _The portal. Of course_. The wolf groaned, his sides heaving. _My huff and puff must've carried us through the portal_. He glanced up at the sky. He'd made a big hole in the trees from his fall. It was about midday, wherever he was. The sun was directly overhead, beating down on his bloody fur.

Bigby groaned, feeling unconsciousness start to take over. _I'm here_, he said to himself. _I'm back in the Homelands_.

That was his last thought before he was swallowed by shadows.


	5. Home Sweet Home

**A/N: WOW. That had to be the longest hiatus in fanfiction history. I am super sorry about how late this chapter is (what, has it been a month?) and nothing I can say can excuse my actions. To be honest, between marching band, schoolwork, and home drama, I felt like if I tried to stay on top of my fanfics in addition to everything else, I would have a mental breakdown. I just want to give all my love to FineChyna for her constant encouragement. Without her, I'm afraid this chapter never would have been posted.**

**To LostHero171: Yeah, I know what you're talking about. Unfortunately, my attempts at drama can fall flat. I'm glad you were entertained, anyway!**

**To TheKittenAuthor: We'll see, my precious...we'll see...**

**To Andrew 2000: I am supercalifragilisticexpialidocious-ly happy that you like the story so far! And the driving scene ****_was_**** actually supposed to be funny, so wow, super glad that I actually succeeded in my endeavor.**

**To babyhorsewriter: *sobbing* you've been on the edge of your seat for over a month...!**

**And finally, to FineChyna: are you happy now? huh, are you happy now? can you stop bugging me now? ARE YOU FINALLY HAPPY?**

**Without further ado, here's the story!**

* * *

Snow's heels clacked against the stone floor of the Archives. Her mouth was stretched into a thin line, and a few loose strands of black hair fell from her bun. She'd been walking through the Archives for at least a half hour, but was not the least bit tired. Her mind was set on the task at hand.

The mayor's office in the Woodlands was enchanted by the witches of the 13th floor to be what was sometimes referred to as a "separate space." When the Fables had first built the building, the witches had made tiny portals to the Homelands. The mayor's office was one of these portals.

No one had ever explored the full extent of the Archives. Some said that it went on forever. Snow had only seen so much of the room, but she'd heard enough to know how to get to some of the more secret areas.

Finally, she came upon an earthen tunnel that lead almost straight down into the earth. With a deep breath, the mayor descended the uneven steps into the cave. Soon enough, she a fiery glow began to light her way. Lit torches were mounted on the walls in 5-yard intervals. It wasn't long before she reached the bottom.

Snow squinted at the figure that was standing at the foot of the stairs. Her heart thudded noisily beneath her ribs until it spoke up. "Miss White," it greeted in a pleasant tone.

The mayor allowed herself to relax a bit. "Boy Blue," she said. As she neared him, she was able to make out his blue polo, pale blond hair and fair features. "Are we good?"

The Fable nodded in response and said, "Are you sure you want to see this? If he doesn't cooperate… I'm just saying, things could get ugly."

Her answer was immediate. "I'm sure," she said. "Thank you, but… I should be here. If that _thing_ has any knowledge on where Bigby could've gone, I need to know."

Blue nodded in understanding. "Well, you seem to have made up your mind. Follow me." With that, he turned and began to walk deeper into the tunnel with Snow in close pursuit.

The dirt walls soon widened out, and they passed through a few rooms on their trek. One contained the goose that laid golden eggs, who everybody thought had died in the Homelands, a large collection of dormant dragon eggs, which weren't supposed to exist, and a few boxes of varying size and shape, which were never supposed to be opened under any circumstances.

The pair of Fables then found themselves in a dark, unlit part of the tunnel. Despite the lack of torches, an eerie silver light with no apparent source allowed some visibility. On either side of the walls were empty cells, unused shackles, chains, and pentacles. They had reached the dungeons.

Fabletown had its own jail, of course. But the dungeons were a separate entity altogether. Only the Fables in very high positions even knew they even existed. Fabletown officials only kept the worst of the worst down there, where they could be left to rot or interrogated using any means necessary, even if they didn't abide by Fabletown laws. Almost all of the cells were empty. Not even Snow knew who or what were in the few cells that were in use. From far away, a bloodcurdling screech pierced the air, and Snow winced. Boy Blue didn't seem affected.

"Here we are," he said as they neared one of the rooms. Inside the cell was a small shelf. On the shelf sat a head. Wooden Jack's head, to be specific. Before they entered, Blue hesitated and turned towards the mayor. "Listen, I know you want to stick around, but these matters are…delicate. Creatures like this guy are manipulative, and it takes a very specific tactic to get them to talk. Any distractions, and disturbances, and this all could be a huge waste of time," he said.

Snow narrowed her eyes. "I'm staying, Blue. Nothing you can say will change that."

"No, I know, it's just…" He struggled to find the right words, then sighed. "You just can't interfere. He'll try to talk to you, get to you, anything. It's really important that you don't get involved."

The mayor's frown deepened, but she nodded. Satisfied, Blue pushed on the iron bars of the cell, opening it with a loud creek and revealing the head inside.

Its face was scratched and scarred. Without its body, it seemed obviously made of wood. Knots and lines twisted up the head's features. As Blue and Snow opened the cell door, it opened its eyes slowly. The irises were painted bright blue, the exact same shade as the actual Jack Horner's. The resemblance was uncanny, and Snow couldn't help but shiver at the sheer creepiness of it.

Then the creature smiled, and all similarities between it and Jack seemed nonexistent. Its grin was cruel, twisted. Inhuman. "Evening, Mayor. Or is it morning? I can hardly tell down here," it said casually.

Snow didn't respond, just as she'd promised. Instead, she stood towards the back of the cell and crossed her arms. The head's grin widened in response. "The silent treatment, huh? I thought you were a little too mature for that." It sighed. "Well, I guess two can play at that game."

"I don't think so." Blue spoke up, and Snow gave a little jump. She had almost forgotten that he was in the room. The Fable stepped towards the head and grabbed its chin roughly, turning it so that he was looking it in the eye. "Tell us where Bigby is," he demanded, his blue eyes flashing angrily.

But the head only chuckled. "Very to-the-point, aren't you?"

"Just tell me what I need to know," Blue growled.

The head raised an amused eyebrow. "Why don't you just use your precious magic mirror? Surely that would tell you where to find Miss Priss's boyfriend." When he didn't answer, it laughed. The sound echoed around the empty cells, bouncing off the walls and filling the cold air. Snow shifted uncomfortably. "It couldn't find him, could it?" it asked between its giggles. "He's beyond your sight."

"And that just leaves you," Blue said coldly. "You were sent here to separate Snow and Bigby, so that you could kill her while your goblin friends took down the sheriff. You know where they would've taken him. So I'm going to ask again: where is he?"

"He's not anywhere!" the head said gleefully. "Have you considered the possibility that our plan succeeded. Your pal is dead."

Snow couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "_No_." She felt her stomach drop. It wasn't possible. There was no way he be gone just like that.

"You're lying," Blue said through gritted teeth. "If he was dead, then where's his body? Why would the goblins just kill him and Jersey, and take them back to the Homelands?"

"Maybe there was nothing left to take back," said the head. His eyes flicked over to Snow. "You're smart, Mayor. You know what goblins do to people. Especially when they're hungry."

"_Hey_!" Blue grabbed the head and slammed it hard against the stone walls of the cell. A few splinters fell against the shelf, and the head cried out. "This is between you and me," the Fable snarled.

"Well, the same goes for you!" the head grunted painfully. "You beating me up isn't going to change anything. He'd dead. D-E-A-D dead. Deal with it."

Snow felt like the floor was falling away from beneath her. Her mind travelled back to the long dark stain that Woody had found on the floor. Could that have been Bigby's blood? Was it possible that the head could be telling the truth? She swallowed hard. She'd been so distracted with what everybody else thought of their relationship. She'd never even stopped to consider how she felt. Snow felt tears forming in her eye. Had she ever told Bigby that she loved him?

Blue's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "You see, the thing is that I don't believe you. So humor me. Let's pretend for a moment that Bigby's not dead. Where would he be?" The head said nothing. "_Tell me_, or you'll regret it."

It sniffed and narrowed its eyes at Blue, as if deep in thought. After a pause, it said, "No…no, I don't I will. This is too much fun."

Blue's expression twisted into something unreadable. "Then I guess we'll have to do this the hard way," he said quietly. He dug a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small matchbook. "Do you know what this is?" he asked the head, opening the box slowly. "It's a matchbook. I'm sure they have matches in the Homelands. These little sticks here catch fire when you do this." He struck the match along the side of the box, and a bright, orange flame sprung up from the tip, flickering slightly. "And you want to know something funny that I learned about wood?" He held the batch up a hare's breath away from the head's nose. It's eyes were glued to the fire tickling the edge of his nostrils. "It burns," Blue finished.

Finally, the head lifted its gaze until it was staring the Fable in the eye. "You wouldn't," it said slowly.

Blue only smiled, and flicked the match up in the air. It spun in perfect little circles before landing on the head's scalp.

The flame spread with astonishing speed, hungrily engulfing the rest of the head's blond hair, licking at his forehead. Its eyes widened in alarm. "No! _No_!" It shrieked shaking its head rigorously. "Stop! Put it out!" it pleaded desperately, its gaze flicking between Blue and the mayor.

"Not until you tell me where Bigby is," Blue said evenly. He didn't seem at all fazed by the head's distress, but Snow was paralyzed. The head, which had seemed so cruel and unyielding mere seconds earlier was now wriggling pathetically, letting out short, small gasps as the fire grew, travelling to his eyebrows, then his eyes and ears.

"Please," it cried. "_Please_! It _burns_!"

"Yeah, that's kind of what fire does," Blue said sardonically. "Tell me where Bigby is, and I'll make it stop.

The wood along either side of the head's face was turning black and crackling. It started screeching.

"Tell me, _now_!" Blue demanded.

"If – If he went through the portal…" it began. Its eyes were nothing but blackened pits then. "The inner realms of the Homelands, the ones closest to the Adversary's castle – _ow no no no_ – They're protected by powerful shielding spells. No one can see inside those realms, not even the mirror."

Boy Blue nodded. "So he's in the Homelands." He looked over Snow. "Do you think he's telling the truth?" he asked.

"Yes!" the head screamed. "I'm not lying! Please!" The head wobbled. All its hair had turned to ash, and the top of its head was cracking apart. "Please!" it asked again.

Blue made a move towards the head, but Snow grasped his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He looked surprised. "Are you sure?" he asked her.

"What – what are you doing?" the head asked frantically. "Put it out!"

Snow's expression was stony. "Let's go," she said in a cold voice before turning around and exiting the cell.

"Wait! Stop! You promised!" screamed the head as the mayor and Boy Blue travelled back the way they came.

"Snow, he could have useful information," Blue told her, looking behind him doubtfully.

"He tried to kill me," Snow said simply, "and he might've gotten Bigby killed. He's worn out his usefulness."

Blue looked dubious, but said no more. As they ascended the stairs, the wooden head's dying screeches followed them like a shadow.

* * *

Bigby woke up in human form, lying on top of broken branches and overturned dirt. At first, he couldn't remember what happened. Then it hit him. _Homelands_.

He bolted upright and grimaced in pain. All his open wounds had already healed up, now nothing more than dark bruises, but the pain remained, a dull throb that made his bones ache. The werewolf climbed to his feet and looked around. He seemed to be alone, but he knew from experience that the Homelands were deceptive and treacherous.

_How long was I out?_ he wondered to himself before looking up. It looked to be just before sunset. That meant at least 5 hours, but he couldn't know for sure. Time worked differently outside the Mundy world.

Bigby drew himself up and inhaled deeply. The stench of goblin was overwhelming, and the werewolf couldn't help but wince at the sheer strength of it. He had to get moving fast.

Just as he finished the thought, the sound of rustling leaves sounded to his right. He whirled around just to see a pair of goblins leaping toward him.

With a snarl, Bigby grasped one's throat before he got the chance to land. The werewolf spun around and slammed the creature into the ground. It didn't have time to react before Bigby's claws were shredding his throat into ribbons. Then, a sudden force knocked him forward. He felt a long, strong arm circle around his neck, putting him in a chokehold.

Thinking fast, the werewolf threw himself onto his back. He heard the goblin grunt softly, and his grip weakened. Bigby was able to wriggle free and straddle the creature. Then, he took its head in between his hands and twisted sharply, snapping its neck.

The werewolf leapt to his feet, preparing for another attack, but none came. He was alone, at least for the time being. _I need to get out of here_, he thought to himself, shifting straight into his wolf form. He'd cover more ground that way, and in the Homelands, a giant wolf was a lot less conspicuous than a bloody naked man.

After that, Bigby was off. His feet flew across the forest floor, and the wind whistled in his ears. The experience was almost…freeing.

But then the wolf found himself thinking of other things. Where had Jersey gone? He hadn't smelled the other Fable anywhere near him when he woke up. The wolf growled to himself. If the shop owner had gotten himself kidnapped, then that could have devastating consequences. Even as a low member of the Fabletown community, Jersey knew enough information to put the Mundy realm in serious danger. When they got back…

_How am I going to get back?_ Bigby suddenly thought. He had no idea where the nearest portal was, and even if he did, it was probably heavily guarded by the Adversary's forces.

It was then that the wolf paused in his tracks. _I'm in the Homelands_, he realized suddenly. He looked around. For centuries, the officials of Fabletown had talked about reclaiming the Homelands, of defeating the Adversary, of going back home. And now he was finally there.

What a childish dream that had been.

Spending so long in the Mundy world had made Bigby soft, had made him forget about how dangerous the magical realm could be. Witches weren't restricted to low-level enchantments. Talking trees were able to do more than just throw apples at people, and every single bug and rodent could be a spy for the Adversary. If Bigby was going to survive out here, he'd need to be careful.

Which meant he'd need to blend in.

The wolf started on his trek once more. It didn't take him that long to sniff out a nearby cottage. From what he could tell, there wasn't anything dangerous in it. Nobody was in there, and he didn't smell any blood or powerful spells. He could probably just sneak in, find some clothes, and leave before anybody found out. As quietly as he could, Bigby shrank back down to human size and smoothed back his hair. Piece of cake.

He started forward quickly and silently. The door was closest, and when he tried the handle, he found that it wasn't locked. The werewolf smirked. This would be even easier than he had thought.

Then, the sound of footsteps entered his ears. _Shit!_ They were close, not enough time to hide. _How could they have been so quiet?_

"Sir? Are you alright?" a voice came from behind him. Bigby cursed under his breath. He turned around slowly, already making up a suitable lie. But then his eyes widened. His voice failed him, and his blood turned cold.

The girl standing behind him was beautiful, dressed in a simple cream-colored dress with a brown vest. Auburn-colored hair fell down in thick ringlets passed her shoulders. Her eyes were brown and doe-like. And to complete the look, a long, crimson cloak was draped over her shoulders.

"Sir?" Red Riding Hood said again. "What happened to your clothes?"


	6. Shifting Shadows

**A/N: Yes, I know I took forever to update, yada yada yada. But the next chapter is here, so hooray! It is kind of a slow one, and I'm sorry about that, but I promise that things will pick up in the next one.**

**To FineChyna: You don't have to worry. I'm actually really grateful that you kept bugging me about Harbinger. I was facing some serious writer's block, and I have to admit, I seriously considered giving up on the story. Thank you so much for your constant encouragement, and I am forever in your debt.**

**To TheKittenAuthor: You...feeling OK there?**

**To CJMack04: Step 1- don't spam other people's stories. Step 2 - don't spam other people's stories. Step 3 - wait. Can you guess it? That's right! You don't spam other people's stories!**

**To Riverfang12: I swear, naked Bigby is all people care about these days. *shakes head***

**To Andrew 2000: Haha, well thanks for sticking around for the story! I'm super pumped that you like it, and I will try to deliver.**

**To LostHero171: I know that was heavily implied, wasn't it? But hey! It's a writer's world.**

**To wildwolf007: Nobody ever accused me of being nice. *evil laugh* Seriously, though, it's awesome that you like the story. I really do apologize for the long breaks between updates.**

**To SeaWolfAlchemist: He certainly is, Sea Wolf, he certainly is...**

**To babyhorsewriter: ugh...I hope so...**

* * *

Bigby was frozen. _How is she still alive?_ he wondered. Little Red Riding Hood wasn't so little anymore. She looked to be a little bit younger than himself, like a mundy in her mid to late twenties. Much different from the pudgy little girl he had tried to eat so many years ago. Right then, her eyebrows were knitted together in concern.

"Can you talk?" she asked slowly.

Her voice snapped Bigby out of his shock. He cleared his throat nervously. _Act natural_, he thought. _She doesn't recognize you in your human form. This can still work. Shit, how do people talk in the Homelands, again?_ "Erm, yes," he said, hand flying to cover himself. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I…I recognize this must be unusual for you." _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!_

The girl took a cautious step forward. She was about five yards away from Bigby. "Yes, it is. I'm sorry, but are you alright, sir? What happened?"

In his moment of shock, the werewolf had completely forgotten about the lie that had been forming in his mind. He scrambled to think of something. "I don't remember," he stammered. "One moment, I was taking a walk through the forest, and the next…" He trailed off. "I, um, I woke up in the woods a little ways off, like this. I didn't recognize where I was, so I went looking for help." He finished with and uncomfortable frown, playing into the role of a lost and confused traveler. Still, he was relatively pleased with the story he was able to come up with.

Red eyed him up and down. "You're covered in bruises," she noted, assuming a horrified expression. Bigby was confused for a moment before it hit him. _Oh, no. Does she think…?_

"I don't remember anything," he repeated, a little too fast.

The girl nodded, still looking a little sick. "You poor soul. Come inside, I might have some clothes that would fit you," she said kindly. She was about to guide him inside, but thought better of it, instead walking straight passed him and opening the doors.

Bigby followed her into the cottage when a thought occurred to him. _Clothes that might fit me?_ "So, do you live here by yourself?" he asked, trying to keep a casual tone.

Without turning to look, Red answered, "No, I'm by myself. There used to be someone …" She swallowed audibly. "But that was a long time ago." She didn't elaborate, so Bigby didn't press. The pair stopped in front of a small wardrobe, and Red opened it to reveal an assortment of clothing, among which were dresses, skirts, and a few tunics and trousers.

The Fable slipped her red cloak form her shoulders and hung it up on an unused hook before picking out an outfit for Bigby. "Here, you should try these," she said. She handed him the forest-green shirt, dark brown pants, and worn leather hunting boots. Bigby noticed that she kept her eyes directly pointed at the ceiling. "There's a spare room around the corner over there," she continued. "You're welcome to stay the night, if you've nowhere else to go."

"Thank you," the werewolf said graciously before gathering the clothes and making his way to the bedroom. The tunic, made for a barrel-chested man, hung on his shoulders awkwardly, and the pants were too long. It became clear to the sheriff that those clothes hadn't been worn in ages. The dark musk that wafted up told him that they were several centuries old. But underneath the heavy, ancient smell was an underlying odor. Faint, but familiar. Bigby furrowed his brow and sniffed. Pine and dirt. His eyes widened. _Woody?_

He glanced that the doorway that lead into the rest of the house, catching a glance of Red. She really was beautiful, with freckled skin, full breasts, and long, luscious hair. _He didn't…_ the werewolf thought in disbelief. He suddenly felt ill.

Bigby found that if he tucked the shirt into the pants and the pants into the boots, the fit wasn't too bad. Once he was fully dressed, he went back into the main part of the cottage, where Red was trying to light the fireplace. She glanced up as he entered what appeared to be the living room. "It's getting late. I have some bread and cheese, if you're hungry," she offered, turning back to the fire.

"You are very gracious, ma'am, but I'll be fine," Bigby replied politely. He felt like he would be starving, if he weren't so sick to his stomach.

"Very well, sir," she said. "You can warm yourself by the fire if you wish." She paused awkwardly, looking miserably at the unlit stack of wood. "Once I can get it started," she added.

"Let me," Bigby offered, coming towards her. She stepped to the side and handed him the flint stone and steel bar used to light the fire. Bigby started the fire on his second try.

"Thank you." Red sat down cross-legged by the fire, right next to Bigby. He felt his heart pound. The last time he'd been this close to her, he had just swallowed her grandmother.

He cleared his throat. "I'm very grateful for this, ma'am," he said.

Red gave him a kind smile, and Bigby felt his heart sink. "It is no trouble. I often get lonely out here by myself. It's nice to have company over every now and again." She chuckled slightly. "Even if they are strange men." Bigby tried to return her smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. His frown deepened when she added, "Though you must tell me your name, sir."

_My name?_ he thought frantically. "John…Kennedy," he blurted, blinking rapidly. When he realized what he had just said, he felt like screaming.

But Red only nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you, John. I'm Red Riding Hood," she said. As if he didn't already know that.

Bigby pursed his lips thoughtfully, relaxing just a tad. She didn't seem to suspect a thing, and so long as he didn't say anything that might imply that he was actually a ten-foot-tall wolfman, he was probably in the clear. He decided to make some conversation. "So what is a girl like you doing out here in these woods by yourself? This seems like an awfully big cottage to only house one person," he said casually.

But Red frowned and stared into the fire before giving a big sigh. "As I said, I used to live here with someone. He…it's a funny story, really. He actually saved my life," she said, smiling at the memory.

Bigby felt like he already knew most of the story, but even so, he sat back and gestured for the girl to continue. "Do tell," he said.

Red cleared her throat and began, "When I was little, I used to live with my grandmother, and we lived an uneventful life for a long time." She smiled to herself, and once again, Bigby found himself feeling cold inside. She continued, "One day, I came home to find that a…a horrible monster had killed her. I almost died, and then this man came bursting through the door. He killed the beast and saved me." It was then that Red sniffed, and Bigby realized that she was crying.

"After that, I had nowhere else to go, so the woodsman took me in. We lived together for a long time, but it wasn't until I was 17 that I realized my feelings for him." Red looked up at the werewolf. Glistening tracks streaked her freckled cheeks, and her big brown eyes shone with tears. "By then, it was too late. The Emperor had started taking over many lands, and the woodsman wanted to flee from his conquest. I insisted that we had nothing to worry about, that the Emperor wouldn't hurt us, but he wouldn't listen."

The girl wiped a hand across her face and sniffled once more. "He left soon after, and that was the last I saw of him," she finished.

Bigby blinked down and ran a tired hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," was all he was able to say. Red only nodded in response.

After a few uncomfortable seconds, she spoke. "You'll have to forgive me, John. My love for the woodsman was strong, and when I think of him…" She didn't finish her sentence.

The werewolf felt as if he should say something, anything. "I think…I think your woodsman made it out. I think he's safe," he said awkwardly.

Red gave him a sad smile. "Thank you for saying that. I would like to believe that as well," she said.

After that, Bigby cleared his throat. "Thank you for housing me, Miss. If it's alright with you, I think I'll retire to the bedroom. The day has been very taxing for me, and I think a good night's sleep will do us both some good," he said.

"You're probably right. Thank you, John," Red said, wiping a tear from her face. Bigby gave her a small smile before going back to the room.

He took off his shirt and shoes and climbed under the covers of the bed. It was a few hours before sleep finally claimed him.

* * *

"What do you _mean_ you can't open the portal?" Snow demanded.

Frau Totenkinder didn't even look up from her knitting.

The pair of fables were sitting in a large room, with pale pink walls and a carpeted floor. Several painting hung from the walls, and an old ceiling fan spun and creaked. They were on the 13th floor - the witch's floor.

Totenkinder sniffed, her spectacles twitching on her pointed nose. As her wrinkled and withered hands worked the knitting needles, her keen brown eyes looked completely alert, unlike the average mundy old woman. That was probably because she was the most powerful witch on the 13th floor. "Simple. I can't open the portal," she said, her voice stern and blunt.

Snow pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated. She felt hot rage start to boil in her veins, but fought the urge to scream. Forcing herself to keep a calm tone, she said, "I don't think you understand. I _need _to get to the Homelands. You have to open that portal."

That's when the witch did set down her half-made scarf. "Child, I don't think _you_ understand. I can open a portal to the Homelands with a snap of my fingers," she said, "but the innermost realms of the Empire? Those are blocked with powerful enchantments that I dare not try to break."

Snow snorted angrily. She hated it when the pompous old woman called her "child." "If it's so hard to open up, the how was Bigby able to go through the portal in the first place?" she said through gritted teeth.

Totenkinder gave her a condescending look. "Miss White," she said, "the spells that are weaved over the portals are meant to protect the Adversary from us. He can open and close them any time he likes, but there is very little I can do." With that, the witch resumed her knitting. "I am sorry."

Snow's nostrils flared, and for a moment, she forgot her composure. "Sorry?" she repeated, nearly shrieking. "You're _sorry_? Bigby is trapped in there! With the Adversary! If we don't get him out…" She gulped, suddenly frozen. "I don't know how long he'll last," she muttered, more to herself than to the witch.

The other Fable glanced up at Snow, the barest hint of sympathy showing itself on her features. She sighed. "Miss White, I don't get any sort of satisfaction from telling you this. Mr. Wolf was a good man. He never did me any wrong. Believe me when I say that if I could do something to help, I would. But there is no way that I could open one of those portals without putting Fabletown in danger." She glanced back down at her scarf. "I'm sorry," she said again.

Snow was silent. Without saying a word, she walked slowly over to an armchair and fell down in it, putting her head in her hands. "That…that can't be it," she said quietly. "There has to be something we can do."

Totenkinder was silent for a second. Her needles clacked together at a steady tempo, echoing in the otherwise silent room. "I can't open the portal," she began. Snow opened her mouth to start another rant when the witch spoke again. "_But_, if I'm careful, I may be able to see him. At least get a general idea of where he is in the Homelands," she said, grimacing as if the words caused her pain.

Snow's head shot up, her blue eyes lighting up. "Do it," she said in a steady voice.

The witch nodded and set her yarn and needles onto a nearby desk. Then, very slowly, she rose from her armchair and made her way to a cabinet on the far side of the room. Again, Snow took note of how slowly and deliberately she moved. She'd seen many mundy elders. They eyes were glazed over, their limbs shook, and they spoke in quivering voices. Totenkinder, while still having the silver hair and thin, pale skin, moved with a grace that could only come from a powerful being. Snow shivered. She remembered the stories told about that old woman. If she hadn't come to Fabletown and instead remained in the Homelands to join the Adversary's legion of sorcerers…the mayor didn't dare to think of what might've happened.

A minute later, the witch returned to her seat holding a large bronze disk. She sat down in the armchair and rubbed the surface of the disk with her pink cotton sleeve. It shone brightly, making Snow White squint from the glare. "Not a crystal ball?" she asked.

Totenkinder barely glanced at the mayor as she answered. "Oh, crystal balls are pretty for show. They project images with startling accuracy, but that kind of power comes at a price. They are big and glamorous creations, disturbing every plane of existence. Their presence can be felt by any minor conjurer," she said. "If I used one of those, then not only would the Adversary's witches know that it is in use, but they'd know exactly where Mr. Wolf would be located.

"No, I much prefer scrying glasses. They're not as accurate as crystal balls, but they are a lot smaller. I might be able to look into the Homelands without being detected," she finished, setting the bronze disk in her lap.

Snow furrowed her brow in confusion. "But the Magic Mirror wasn't able to see Bigby. The dimensions were protected by powerful wards. How could you find him?" she asked.

At that, the witch mocked hurt. "Why, mayor, you offend me. Are you really comparing my strength and skill to that of an enchanted piece of glass?" When Snow didn't respond, Totenkinder smirked and rolled up her sleeves. "Now, quiet. I'll need to concentrate." With that, she closed her eyes and held a bony hand over the surface of the disk.

Snow sat in her seat, waiting for something to happen. For several minutes, there was nothing, and she was tempted to say something. But then she remembered the witch's request and held her tongue. After a few more agonizing moments, the mayor began to notice that a low humming noise had begun to fill the air. It felt as if the very air around her was buzzing excitedly. The atmosphere felt sharp, electric. Snow felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

She looked around nervously, then back at Totenkinder. As her eyes rested on the scrying glass, her jaw dropped slightly. The surface of the disk was vibrating, and glowing a low golden light. As she looked closer, Snow noticed tiny shapes shifting on the glass's face. They began to take form, looking vaguely humanoid.

The mayor's eyes darted back to the witch. Her face was screwed up in concentration. She was biting her lip so hard that a fat drop of scarlet blood began to drip down her chin. Snow looked back down at the scrying glass. The images were dark and distorted, like a shadow during sunset. The semblance of a cottage took form on the surface. Then, it was almost as if the disk was a camera that zoomed in. The walls of the cottage disappeared to reveal a bed with a lump under its covers…it could've been a person…

Then, just like that, it was gone. Snow started and threw Totenkinder an accusatory look. "Why did you stop?" she demanded. "Bring it back!"

The witch had pulled out a handkerchief and was dabbing sweat from her forehead. She looked like she would have been angry, if she weren't so exhausted. "I couldn't have stayed any longer without being detected," she said in a tired voice. "I did all I could."

"It wasn't enough!" Snow nearly shouted before her senses returned to her. She immediately shut her mouth and looked down at her shoes, feeling her face turn hot.

Fortunately, Totenkinder was much too fatigued to get angry. "I am sorry, Miss White," she said, closing her eyes. "I…I need to get back to my knitting now. You know the way out."

Snow sat in her chair for a moment longer, as if expecting the witch to say more. When she didn't, the mayor snorted in contempt and left the room, her blood boiling.


	7. Over the River and Through the Woods

**A/N: Hola, my homies! Here is the next update, and yay for me for getting it in before the end of the week! Just a warning: this chapter is purely Bigby-centric. It's a little bit shorter than the others, but I'll try to post the next chapter sooner to make up for it.**

**To FineChyna: I've never actually read the Sisters Grimm series, but I heard that it's good. I should get into it sometimes. Anyway, I'm glad you liked the chapter, and personally, Frau Totenkinder is one of my favorite characters in the Fables universe, so it was an absolute pleasure to write her. As for your comment on Red, I will not speak about it directly. However, I will say this: in the Homelands, Fables don't tend to call the Emperor "the Adversary" unless they have a death wish. Still, interesting theory. I wonder how it will turn out.**

**To LostHero171: I understand where you're coming from, and I'm really sorry about that. I try not to make her bitchy, but in situations like these, it's hard to write her with having any other reasonable reaction. And let's hope that Red doesn't find out *wink wink***

**To Lulidah: AND MORE YOU SHALL HAVE, MY FRIEND!**

**To TheKittenAuthor: Yeah, I'm not entirely sure if you're alright. And as far as immortals go, I don't really think age matters that much. Still...**

**To SeaWolfAlchemist: Yeah, that would be a shame. A real darn shame.**

**To wildwolf007: I am super super happy about your review, because honestly, you're the only reviewer who has this much insight on Snow. I am super sorry that I don't have the state of Fabletown in this chapter, but most of it was already written by the time you reviewed, and I didn't feel like rewriting it. Awesome idea for next one, though, and thanks a bunch!**

* * *

Bigby woke up to the smell of smoke.

He bolted upright, fully alert. The acrid stench that burned his nostrils was still a few miles away, but was moving quickly towards the cottage. He'd have to hurry. After flinging the covers away, the werewolf threw the green shirt over his shoulders and tugged the oversized hunting boots onto his feet. Then he peered out through the doorway to the bedroom.

It was incredibly dark, almost as if there was a thick blanket of blackness that settled in the still air. It could only ever be this dark in the Homelands. If he had to guess, Bigby would've said that it was about 1:00 in the morning.

He cocked his head to the side and inhaled deeply, for once grateful that he didn't have his cigarettes to dull his senses. There were at least 200 creatures travelling towards the cottage, not all of them goblins. As much as Bigby wanted to believe that there was just a random Adversary army taking a midnight stroll through the woods, it was pretty obvious that they were after the wolf. _But how did they find me?_

It didn't matter. There were a lot of them, and he couldn't fight them there. He had to leave. Silently, Bigby crept through the house, making his way to the door. He would walk a safe distance away from the cottage, then morph into a wolf and run the rest of the way. _Where to? Where can I go in the middle of Adversary territory?_ Bigby couldn't help but think, but then he shook his head. He couldn't think like that just then. He had to stick to whatever plan he could come up with.

Judging from the distant sound of their footsteps, the small army was moving at a fast pace. He had about 15 minutes, 20 at most before they caught up to him. He'd have to move quickly.

"John?"

The sudden noise made Bigby jump. _How is she able to sneak up on my like that?_ he practically screamed in his brain before turning around to look at Red Riding Hood. In the dark, he could barely see that she was dressed in a soft blue nightgown. He couldn't really see her face, but he could smell the confusion on her. "Miss Red," he said, scratching the back of his head. "What are you doing up?"

She didn't answer, but instead curiously eyed him up and down. "Where are you going?" she asked.

Bigby cursed silently. How was this going to go? "I…I need to leave. I am very thankful for your hospitality, but I'm afraid that I cannot stay." The smell of smoke was much stronger than before. He didn't have much time.

"I don't understand. Do you need help?"

"Please, Miss Red. I just need to –"

Things happened very quickly then. The front door burst open, and six Adversary warriors rushed into the house. They must have travelled ahead of the rest of the group. Bigby didn't really have much time to contemplate how they had gotten there so quickly before the soldiers attacked.

He was careful not to wolf out as he fought. Bigby ducked when the first of the attackers flew at him. He sailed over the werewolf's head and crashed onto the wooden floors to his left. Red let out a tiny shriek of terror, but Bigby didn't pay much attention to her. The other five soldiers were already on him.

He managed to sock one across the face before two others tried to grab his arms and the other two came at him with knives. He snarled as a wave of cold nausea washed over him, radiating from the blades. Silver. Even without wolfing out, Bigby was still much stronger than the warriors. As the soldiers lunged at him with the knives, he jerked his arms forward, sending the other two toppling over into the ones with knives. He only had a second's respite before the soldier he had punched first scooped up one of the fallen blades and scrambled towards him.

Bigby flinched to the side as the soldier sliced at him, feeling the cold sting of the silver as it sliced the air just passed his head. He growled. This silver was more potent than the mundy kind. Purer, almost. He grabbed the soldier by the wrist and twisted hard. He heard the sharp _crack_ of bones breaking, and the warrior howled with pain as the knife slipped from his fingers.

The werewolf tightened his grip on the Fable's wrist and swung him over his head, slamming his body against the floor with enough force the crack the wooden boards, then he whirled around and sent a powerful roundhouse kick to another soldier that had picked himself off the ground. Bigby settled back into a fighting stance, ready for another round of fighting, but none came. The soldiers that weren't out cold were too injured to get up. Five bodies surrounded the werewolf, and the floor was splattered with –

Wait. _Five bodies?_ Bigby started, remembering the one that he had ducked under first. He turned to see Red standing over a disfigured lump on the floor. In the dark, it took him a second to realize what it was.

The soldier's limbs were twisted and limp, and his skull was bashed in so much that all that remained were shards of bone littered inside a pink and grey slop. It was as if Red had beaten the Fable's brains in and just kept going. Bigby looked up at Red in horror. She was breathing heavily, and blood was splattered across her face and chest. In her hands, she held a bloodied candlestick.

The werewolf's eyes widened. "How did…what did you do?" he asked.

Red almost looked as shocked as Bigby. She was breathing in short, disjointed gasps, and her arms shook viciously. "What is happening? John, who are these men?" she practically shrieked.

Bigby cursed and looked around. The stench of smoke was overwhelming then. The rest of the Adversary's forces were almost at the cottage. He had to leave.

Then, he glanced back at Red, who was still clutching the bloody candlestick with white knuckles. Up until he'd met her, she was only alive because she didn't matter. The Adversary didn't care about one tiny Fable living in the woods in the middle of nowhere. But the small army that was just outside their door was sent to do one thing and one thing only: to kill Bigby. They didn't care about anything else. If they came across the cottage, they would burn it down, and they wouldn't take any prisoners.

Red would die. And he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"_Fuck_!" Bigby hissed, walking over to Red and grabbing her roughly by the hand.

She turned rigid. "What are you doing?" she said, her voice unnaturally high.

"We need to go _now_," he said, "Before the army gets here."

"Army? What do you _mean _army? Who – who _were_ those men?"

_I don't have time for this_. Bigby took a deep breath before saying, "Those were soldiers of the Adversary, sent to kill me. More will be on the way, and if we aren't far away by the time they get here, then we'll be dead."

He didn't think her eyes could get any wider, but apparently, he was wrong. "Adversary? Those were…" She wrenched her hand from Bigby's grasp and retreated a few steps. "No! I – I'm not going with you," she stammered. "I can't, I – "

"Red, _please_ listen to me," Bigby interrupted, walking back up to her. She shuffled her feet nervously, but didn't move away again. "There is an entire army coming after us. Don't ask me how I know this, I just do. When they get here, they will kill anything that stands in their way. I know I haven't been completely honest with you, but if you don't' come with me now, then you will die," he finished.

The Fable was terrified, he could tell. It was still so dark that he couldn't exactly make out her face, but the fear was gushing from her pores, smelling almost as strong as the smoke. She didn't say anything. She didn't even move. She just stared at the wall, shivering slightly.

Bigby growled. They didn't have much time. "Miss Red," he said sharply. Her eyes flicked back up to meet his. He held out a hand to her. "Please," he said, "trust me."

The Fable gulped audibly and dropped the candlestick. It landed on the floor with a dull _thud_. "O-okay," she said softly, taking the werewolf's hand. She followed behind him nervously, as they passed by the wardrobe, her hand darted out, quickly snatching up her crimson cloak. He didn't question it.

With a firm grip, Bigby lead her out of the cottage and into the woods. They weaved around trees and bushes, traveling quickly and silently. Even at their speedy pace, the werewolf felt a growing sense of anxiousness crawling around in his stomach. If he was in wolf form, they would be able to cover twice the distance at half the time. Still, he dared not change in front of Red.

Still, they walked farther and farther, but the smoke's acrid stench only got stronger. Bigby glanced back at his companion. Her face was still shrouded in darkness, but he could tell from her loud breathing and the slick of sweat around her fingers that she was exhausted. There was no way that they'd be able to lose the Adversary's forces, not at that pace. Red wouldn't last much longer.

If he left her behind, she would die. If he changed…

Bigby stopped dead in his tracks. He let Red's hand fall from his grasp, and immediately, she bent over, holding her knees for support. "Why…are we stopping?" she gasped, though he could tell she was grateful for the rest.

"We can't outrun them," he said in a low voice. Red got very quiet and straightened her back.

"What are you saying?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm saying that we'll never get them to lose our scent. At this pace, we'll have another half hour at most before they catch us." Before she could say anything, Bigby continued, "There's a way we can get out of this alive, but you're going to have to stay calm." His heart was beating so fast, he was almost sure she could hear it. Part of his brain screamed at him to stop and leave the Fable by herself, but he knew he couldn't do that. After everything he put her through, Bigby owed her that much.

He could hear the doubt in her voice when she responded, "I think staying calm isn't an option anymore, John."

"Yes, I know, but…" Bigby sighed, struggling for words. _This is fucking impossible_, he thought. "What I'm about to do…what I'm about to show you, it's going to save our lives. Just remember that," he finished with difficulty.

He could smell her grow suspicious, but she nodded anyway. After taking a deep breath, Bigby started to remove his shirt.

"John? What are you doing?" Red asked nervously as the werewolf kicked off his shoes and started to pull down his pants.

"You just have to trust me on this," he said gruffly. He handed her his clothes, thankful that it was too dark for her to see much. "Take these. I'll need them later," he said.

"I don't understand," Red said. He didn't need to be able to see to tell that she was blushing.

"You're about to," he said. "Please, just don't panic." Then, he began to change.

He felt his bones shift and crack, but it didn't really hurt. His skin tingled as coarse grey fur grew all over his body. Bigby felt his spine elongate, stretching out his torso and forming a tail. He crouched down so that he wouldn't fall over when his arms and legs bent over. His fingers swelled as his fingers hardened and sharpened, turning into claws. He heard Red let out a gasp of horror, but it was too late. Soon enough, he was no longer a man, but a 10 foot tall wolf.

He looked at her with burning amber eyes. Now that he was in wolf form, he could see her face as clear as day. Her expression was one of pure terror. Hate made her features twist grotesquely, and her eyes glistened, as if she were about to burst into tears. "You…you're…" Her voice shook so violently that he could barely understand a word she was saying. She stuttered something incomprehensible. Then, her knees buckled, and she toppled to the ground.

Of course.

Bigby bent down and picked up the unconscious Red gingerly between his jaws. Luckily, she had a death-grip on his clothes, so they didn't fall out of her hands when he picked her up. He looked around. His wolf senses allowed him to tell where the Adversary's army was exactly. They were close, and moving in fast.

But he was faster.

Keeping a firm, but gentle grip on the Fable in his mouth, Bigby broke into a run. His feet flew over the forest floor, and the wind whistled in his ears.

As he ran, the smell of smoke got fainter and fainter until it completely evaded his senses. He had no way of knowing how far he had run, but he didn't feel any bit tired. He ran for a few hours until he came to a clearing. After setting Red down on the dirt floor, Bigby raised his head and sniffed. He still couldn't hear or smell the Adversary's army, but he knew he couldn't stay in one place for long.

He looked back down at the Fable, curled up on top of his borrowed clothing. At the very least, he could stop there for a little bit, until morning. He sat down next to Red and blinked at her. _The fuck have I gotten myself into?_ he asked himself. _What will even happen when she wakes up? If me wolfing out was enough to make her faint…_

Bigby shook his head and laid down, resting his head on his front paws. He couldn't sleep, not while Red was still unconscious. Even if she was awake, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to trust her after what he just showed her. _When's the next time I'm going to get some sleep?_

_Stop it, Bigby. Focus_. He blinked rapidly. _I have to stay awake_.

There was a rustling sound to his left. In less than a second, the wolf was on his feet, growling a challenge at whatever was approaching. He waited a few heartbeats, straining all of his senses, but nothing was there. _Shit. I need to relax_.

He needed to think of something to calm him down.

The first thing to come to mind: Snow.

He wasn't in the Homelands. He was in Snow's apartment, lying down in her bed, watching her sleep. Her black hair was down and lying in a tangled array around her head. The moon's shine from the open window made the pale white skin on her bare back softly glow. He breathed in her scent, soft, warm, familiar.

Bigby felt his heart slow down. He settled down on his back legs. Silent and alert, the wolf continued his watch.


	8. All the Better to See You With

**A/N: Aaaaaaaaand, here's the next chapter, everyone! I'm sorry about any crapiness, but Homecoming was last night, and quite frankly, my brain is literally mush. This entire chapter is the product of my brain mush. So yeah.**

**To FineChyna: Please don't choke on your throat. I don't think I would be able to take it if you died. That is a beautiful rhyme by the way, and I laughed my pants off reading it. Thank you.**

**To TheLostHero171: I do hope you find your password. Once again, your beautiful words fill me with fuzzies. Much obliged.**

**To ShivaSprectrum: You're beautiful, beautiful.**

**To TheKittenAuthor: Um...**

**To KSaum: Ach! I missed you so! I am just tickled pink that you like my story, and your reviews are always amazing. I will try really hard to keep this interesting, just for you!**

**To wildwolf007: I'm super sorry I didn't use your idea in this chapter, but I felt like it was kind of mean to leave the last one off on that note and not expand on it this time. It's quite honestly super amazing and you have my most solemn vow that I will use it. Anyway, I'm trying to update a lot more than every 5 days, but no cigar. Since I was writing Animals during the summer, I updated almost every single day, if not every two days. I'm not joking, ask anyone. By the way, I'm really glad that you like Red's reaction. I honestly couldn't think of any other reaction.**

**To SeaWolfAlchemist: It does seem that way, doesn't it?**

* * *

She was running, running through the forest, holding John's hand. He was strong like her woodsman. He would protect her. She knew he would.

But it was so dark out, and so cold. She couldn't see anything. All she could feel was the warmth of John's hand around her wrist. Suddenly, they halted, and Red trembled. "Why did we stop?" she asked in a shaking voice.

"They're here," he said, but his voice wasn't the same. Before it had been gruff an gravelly, but it was little more than a twisted snarl. She looked up at him. It had been too dark to see his cold brown eyes, but now they glowed like magma. She felt a sharp pain in her wrist and felt hot blood run down her fingers and drip onto the ground. _Did he just scratch me?_

"John, what's going on?" Red asked. The man released her hand and stalk forward, growling softly. She saw the shadow of fur sprouting from his arms and face. There was rustling in the woods from behind her, and Red felt her heart thud painfully in her chest. _They're coming_, she thought. _The Adversary's creatures are coming to kill me_.

But then a figure stepped through the trees, and it most certainly didn't look like a monster. It looked like a woman, bent over and frail. Red shifted uncomfortably. "Something's wrong," she said, but John didn't seem to hear her. He advanced on the figure. Was it just her imagination, or had he gotten taller?

The figure shuffled a little closer to her. Something about her seemed familiar, but Red couldn't put her finger on it. "John, stop. She's not a soldier. We should keep moving," she told her companion. When he didn't respond, she looked over at him, but he was no longer there. In his place stood a giant wolf, with angry golden eyes and long fangs that seemed to glow pale silver in the dark of the night. It continued to pad toward the figure, its eyes gleaming with malice.

Red stumbled backward a step. "No," she whispered.

Just then, the figure spoke as it hobbled closer to her. Her voice was warm and friendly. "Little Red? Did you bring me more carnations?"

The Fable's eyes widened. "_No_!" she screamed. The wolf lunged.

Red's eyes snapped open with a gasp. She was lying on her side, the grass scratching at her arms and legs. Her red cloak was thrown over her like a blanket. The sun had risen, and the light was peeking through the trees, dotting the ground with golden speckles. It was beautiful, serene. For a moment, she felt peaceful. Then she remembered her dream. _John_

She remained motionless, trying to get her breathing under control. Was he still there? Could he hear her breathing? Could he _smell _it?

She heard nothing. It seemed as if the clearing was completely empty; she was alone. Red clung to the grass under her hand, overly aware of her heart's tumultuous beat. Did she dare lift her head? He could be watching from afar.

_If I don't move now, I may never get the chance to escape_, she thought. She felt a tear slide down her face. Shaking uncontrollably, Red raised herself into a sitting position and looked around. Again, John – or whoever he was – appeared to have left. A hysterical giggle bubbled up from her throat. _I'm free!_

Then she heard a rustling sound, and all her hopes were crushed.

John came through the bushes in human form, wearing the clothes she had lent him – the woodsman's clothes. Red paled, remembering what he had said about him reaching safety. Had that been a lie? Had the wolf killed her love as well?

She considered the prospect that perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps there was more than just one wolf creature wandering the forest, but she knew in her heart that wasn't true. Those eyes, those horrible golden eyes had been so familiar. She'd only seen them once before, on the creature that had killed her grandmother. She gulped, feeling a new rush a fear wash through her like icy water. How could he be alive?

John walked slowly towards her. His eyes weren't golden anymore. They were hard and brown, the same handsome eyes that seemed so human. But she'd seen him change. She knew he was anything but.

Finally, he paused about three meters away from her. His face was unreadable, like a statue. He cleared his throat and spoke. "You must have a lot of questions for me," he said. "All this…it's a lot to take in." Then, he paused, as if waiting for her to run away or attack him. But she couldn't. Red was completely paralyzed. When she didn't make a move, John took a step towards her.

Red managed to find her voice then. "S-stay away," she stuttered, her eyes wide with fear. He froze, his hands held up. A worthless gesture. He didn't need to be carrying weapons; Red knew that he could tear her apart with his claws any time he wanted.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly. There were a few painful seconds of silence. Then, the Fable spoke again.

"How?" she asked.

John looked confused. "What?" he asked, lowering his hands

"How did you survive? I r-remember…the woodsman sliced you open and stuffed you with rocks."

John's hand travelled to his belly, absentmindedly tracing a line along his navel. He got a far-away look in his eyes, as if he was reliving a painful memory. "I remember," he said.

"He threw you in the river. You were supposed to drown."

With that, his eyes were snapped back into the present. They flicked over to meet Red's. She caught the barest hint of anger in them, but a second later, it was gone. "I can hold my breath for a long time," he said. "I didn't drown. I managed to pass all the stones, then swim to safety. There…aren't many things that can kill me."

Red gulped. So killing him wasn't an option. Could she run away? No, he'd be able to strike her down before she even managed to climb to her feet. John tilted his head to the side. He was somehow able to guess what she was thinking, because then he said, "If you want to leave, I won't stop you. But you should know that you wouldn't be able to go very far before the Adversary's forces find you. You'll be dead within the day."

It took all of Red's restraint not to start screaming. He'd abducted her, and now she was a fugitive. She couldn't stop the tears from forming in her eyes. Even if she managed to escape the wolf, she'd never be able to stop running. "Why?" she asked in a broken whisper. "Why would you come to me? Why would you drag me into your nightmare, after everything you've already put me through?"

John's expression twisted painfully. Was that remorse? "I'm sorry. I never meant to get you involved. I didn't even know that was your cottage until you found me."

That didn't make Red feel any better. So it was all a coincidence? Was this some cruel joke played by Fate? Her voice quivered when she said, "You killed my grandmother. You almost killed me. And now this."

He sighed and scratched the back of his head. "I have done a lot of things that I'm not proud of, Red," he admitted, "especially to you. But you have to believe me when I say that I am so sor– "

"Is your name even John?" she interrupted.

This made him hesitate. "Bigby," he said after a while. "My name is Bigby."

What a strange thing, to know the name of the monster that has haunted your dreams for years. For so long, he'd just been _the monster. The beast. The wolf_. But _Bigby_? That didn't seem to fit. The name was just so…unassuming.

Suddenly, Red's stomach growled. She hadn't noticed how hungry she was.

She didn't think it was very loud, but apparently, John – no, Bigby – had heard it. He started forward, and Red automatically scrambled away. He paused. "You're hungry. I just got you some food," he said. From his pocket, he produced a large leaf that was folded over something.

Red hesitated, but eventually relaxed, allowing him to come a little closer.

Bigby knelt down and set the leaf on the ground, and it unraveled to reveal that a mixture of nuts, berries, and roots were piled on top of it. Once he set it down, he got up and backed away a bit. "You don't have to worry about any of it being poisonous. I'd be able to smell it," he said.

That wasn't very comforting.

Red didn't want anything that the wolf gave her, but her hunger got the better of her. Once Bigby was a good distance away, she cautiously pulled the leaf closer to her and started eating a few of the berries. They weren't very filling, but it was better than nothing.

"I'm sorry that there is no meat," he said suddenly, as if reading her mind. "I would have brought some back to cook, but it's not safe to start a fire from this distance."

The Fable paused and looked up at him. "You're not having any?" she said tentatively.

"I already ate." Red's eyes widened in horror, and he added quickly, "Deer. I had deer."

Red shivered. She was in the presence of a creature that needed to reassure her that he wasn't eating people. She was eating food he had gotten for her. Her stomach twisted. Suddenly she wasn't so hungry. She shoved the berries away and circled her hands around her knees.

Bigby peered at her with concern. Red admitted it – he was an attractive man. When she'd first seen him unclothed outside her cottage, she hadn't known what to make of him, but she knew he wouldn't hurt her. She'd felt like he protected people, that he was safe.

Usually, she was very good at reading people. There was no way she could've seen this, but she should've been able to tell that something wasn't right about him. Just the fact that he'd been naked and covered in bruises should've been enough. But Red hadn't suspected a thing. That's what bothered her most. Besides sitting a few meters away from the monster that had killed and eaten her grandmother, of course.

Now, looking at him, she could see hints of the wolf in his features. Though his eyes were brown instead of amber, they had the same piercing intensity as they did when he was in wolf form. Also, he had an air of ferociousness about him, as if anyone who tried to fight him would end up in the ground.

She had to get away from him. But where would she go?

Bigby seemed to sense her fear, or perhaps he could smell it, because right then, he spoke up. "Please, Red. I've done horrible things, but I've changed. I'm a different person now," he said, his expression pleading.

Red couldn't help the anger from boiling up inside her. It rose in her throat like a large rock, making it difficult to speak. When she got control of her vocal chords, she managed to say, "No. You will never change, Bigby. You'll always be a monster!" Her voice rose in volume with every word. Her fury raged inside of her like a wildfire.

Bigby winced and looked around cautiously. "Red –" he started to say.

"Everything you have told me has been a lie!" she yelled.

The man reacted instantly. He lunged toward her, faster than blinking, and clamped a hand over her mouth. She kicked and bucked, but he circled an arm around her chest and held her still. When she tried to scream, all that came out was a muffled groan.

"Will you _not _do that?" he hissed in her ear. "Do you not realize that the more noise you make, the more you draw the Adversary's forces to us?" This made Red freeze. Bigby let go of her and stepped away, and Red jumped to her feet.

"Don't you _ever_ touch me again," she said.

"For fuck's sake, I'm trying to keep you alive!" he exclaimed before realizing his own volume and snapping his mouth shut. At a quieter volume, he continued, "For the record, I didn't lie about everything."

Red narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?" she demanded.

"Woody made it out. He's safe."

The Fable's heart nearly stopped. _What did he just say?_

Bigby kept talking. "When the Adversary started taking over the Homelands, I made it my mission to help Fables out. I admit that it was mostly to vex the Adversary for taking over my land, but I still helped them. I guided them to a portal into another realm, one that was untouched by the Adversary. Woody was one of those Fables." He gave Red a meaningful look. "He's alive. We get along now. We even have a drink together every now and again."

Anger flared up inside of her. Red tried to keep from attacking him right then. How _dare_ he lie to her like that? How _dare _he use the woodsman to manipulate her?

No, he hadn't changed at all. Bigby was still a monster, through and through.

He peered at her closely, and Red felt another wave of fear creep up inside her. Why did he keep looking at her like that? Was he trying to read into her mind, look for other ways to twist her feelings?

But he just sighed deeply and looked down, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't believe me," he said. It wasn't a question, so Red didn't answer. He continued, "That's fine. I wouldn't expect anything else. After everything that's happened…" He trailed off.

A few moments passed before Red asked, "What are you going to do with me?"

Bigby looked back up at her and took a deep breath. "I'm not going to do anything with you," he said. "You're not my prisoner. You can go anywhere you want, but I need to get back to the other realm. I can't stay here."

He looked up at the sky, as if he could see through it, at another land. "I'm going to search this dimension. I'm not going to rest until I find a witch that can open a portal for me. And then I'm going home." He looked at her. "You can come with me," he said, "if you want."

Red didn't move. Her mind was reeling. Go? With _him_? The notion seemed unthinkable. And yet, Red didn't see any alternative.

Bigby had said so himself – she was an enemy of the Adversary now. Where could she go where she wouldn't be hunted? She had been safe in her secluded little cottage, but now she out in the open, and she had no idea how to defend herself. If she went with Bigby, there was at least a chance that she could live in peace.

The wolf had destroyed her life, but now he was offering her a new one.

She looked at him. He wasn't human. He wasn't a person. How could she know that he wasn't lying to her again, just like he lied to her about the woodsman?

There was no guarantee. Her life was up for anyone to take. If she died, it would either be at the Adversary's hand, or at Bigby's. At least Bigby, she was familiar with.

She looked at him and spoke, despite the fact that every part of her conscience screaming at her to run away, far away where no one could hurt her. _But I can't run anymore. There's no place to run to._ "I'll go with you," she said.


	9. Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

**A/N: Hello, darlings! I'm really proud of myself right now. It's been a while since I last updated consecutively like this. Well, that's what a day off will do for you. I would like to dedicate this chapter to wildwolf007 for giving me this idea. Without further ado, here's the chapter for you lovelies!**

**To FineChyna: "Big Bad Wolf racist?" That has to be the best thing I've heard today. I'm super happy that you like the dream scene. I really do love writing those, since anything can happen and it allows for a lot of imagery that doesn't make much sense. Also, yes, I kind of did.**

**To Lulidah: for commenting :D!**

**To LostHero171: Don't feel too bad about the whole password thing. One time, I remember that I lost my book, and when I got home from school, I found it in the fridge. Anyway, yeah, I didn't want to write Red out of my story just yet. I'm going to have some fun with this first *evil laugh***

**To TheKittenAuthor: I know, and I'm sorry about that. To be honest, I didn't really like Red's character in the comics, so I'm taking some artistic licence in my fic. Sorry if it's bothering you, and I can try to write her a bit more in character if you want.**

**To SeaWolfAlchemist: *whispering* I don't think you convinced her.**

**To wildwolf007: I'm still working on the rest of the story, but if I need any help, I'll be sure to let you know. Thanks for the offer.**

* * *

He had no idea how Bigby did it.

As Woody chased after the gang of imps that hopped around the street, he felt as if his heart was about to beat out of his chest, and he suddenly felt a strong sense of admiration for the sheriff for being able to keep all the Fables in check.

It had been about a week since Bigby fell through the portal into the Homelands. The good news was that time passed quickly there, so the werewolf had probably only been there a day or two. The bad news: Fabletown had turned into a complete and utter anarchy since his departure.

Portals were still opening up all over Bullfinch Street, and Woody had started to figure out that maybe not all of them were planned. Every now and again, a portal to the Homelands would break into the Mundy world, stay there a few hours, then close. Most of the time, they were too small to have much of an effect. But there were those occasional ones that were big enough to let things through. In this case, a band of about ten forest imps.

They had already looted a few stores by the time Woody had gotten wind of them. Although Snow hadn't sent him out to take care of it, he felt as if it was his responsibility to keep them from tearing up the street.

Besides, more likely than not, Snow wouldn't have sent anyone anyway. She's been hard to read recently. She'd go from acting like Captain Stick-Up-Her-Ass to emotional wrecking ball in five seconds flat. The woodsman preferred not to suffer the wrath of her mood swings.

Chasing the little monsters through the streets made him instantly regret his decision.

He ran into an alley and looked around. It seemed empty, but he could've sworn he saw a few of the fuckers scampering in there.

As if on cue, an imp fell from the roof with a battle cry like a wailing kitten. It bounced off his head and landed at his feet. Woody cursed and kicked out with his boot, but the creature cartwheeled out of the way, then leapt forward and slashed at his leg with a broken beer bottle.

They were about a foot tall and looked like skinny babies with reptilian skin. Their looks varied pretty drastically from imp to imp. They could be purple and covered in spikes, or blue and black with webbed feet. The one that was trying to slash up his pants was pale green, and the mop of red hair on its head almost covered the tiny horn that sprouted from his crown.

Luckily for the woodsman, his jeans were thick, and the bottle only managed to create a small scratch on his calf. Still, it kind of hurt. With a curse, Woody drew his leg back and punted the little animal about a hundred feet in the air. He didn't see it come back down.

The woodsman crossed his arms and smirked. _Nasty little fucker_, he thought to himself. He didn't notice the other three imps until one of them tackled him from behind, wrapping its ugly scaly arms around his neck.

"Fuck!" he cried, staggering forward while trying to swat the creature away. But damn, those things had one heck of a grip. It clung onto his head, ripping out chunks of his beard while the other two jabbed at his feet with bent-up forks. Finally, the woodsman managed to close his fist around the one that was scratching at his face and tear it away. Keeping a firm grip on it, he kicked another one onto the ground and slammed his boot down on its belly. With a gasp, the creature's spasmed, then lay still. Woody looked around for the other one, but it had scampered off.

Growling, he raised the imp up to his face so that he was staring it in its neon-yellow eyes. It was still struggling to release itself, but when he saw the look of ferocity on the woodsman's face, he remained still and released a pitiful whimper.

This one was red-skinned and covered in boils. Its head was bald, and its pupils were vertical slits. There was a shiny pearl bracelet hanging around its tiny neck, probably from one of the jewelry shops it looted. An arrow-shaped tail was swinging around from its rear, wriggling nervously.

Woody snarled at the creature, "What am I going to do with you, huh?"

Suddenly, the imp's face erupted in an ugly grin. Before Woody could react, it jabbed the tip of its tail into his eye.

"_Ow_!" he exclaimed, dropping the imp onto the concrete floor. Seeing its opportunity, the creature snickered gleefully and ran as fast as its stunted legs could carry it. "You little vermin!" the woodsman roared. He made a move to go after it, but then stopped. _This is impossible_, he thought.

Woody looked up. It was clear and sunny out. A beautiful day, unfittingly so. How could Fabletown even function without Bigby?

"Woody?"

The woodsman whirled around to see Boy Blue standing a few meters away. He held a heavy-looking aluminium baseball bat. The head was splattered with a thick yellow liquid. Woody almost laughed. Imp blood.

"Hey, Blue," he said, wiping some blood off of his eye. "What are you doing here?"

The Fable raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question," he said. When Woody shrugged, he continued, "Snow sent me out to take care of the imps."

"Same. Except, uh, Snow didn't send me," said Woody.

Blue cocked his head to the side and eyed the woodsman's bloody eye. "Not going too well for you, is it?" he asked, the barest hint of amusement in his voice.

"Not really. I fucking hate those things."

Blue chuckled, "Yeah, me, too."

They stood in silence for a little bit, Woody trying to catch his breath. His eye still stung like hell, but it stopped bleeding within minutes. He guessed it would take at least an hour before it was completely healed, though. He glanced over at Blue. The other Fable had taken out a napkin and was wiping some of the yellow goo off of his baseball bat. Woody decided to make conversation.

"You got a cigarette?" he asked.

Blue gave him a sympathetic look. "Sorry. I don't smoke," he said.

Fuck. One more perk of having Bigby around: he always had an extra cig. Woody kicked a rock over and tried again. "So, Snow sent you?" Blue nodded. "How's she doing?"

At that, Blue's expression darkened. "Not too good. She's been kind of…I dunno, sensitive since…well, you know."

Woody nodded. "Yeah. It must have hit her hard," he said.

"No kidding."

The woodsman sniffed. "I wonder how Bigby's doing," he said quietly.

Blue frowned and twirled his bat. "I hope he's OK," he said.

Woody glanced at him. It took him until then to realize that Snow wasn't the only one who was affected by Bigby's disappearance. Everybody in Fabletown had come to depend on the sheriff. That's the entire reason why things were going to shit. He decided that he should say something. "Hey," the woodsman said. Blue looked up at him, and Woody offered him a smile. "Bigby knows what he's doing. He's a tough son of a bitch."

Blue returned the woodsman's smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah," he said unenthusiastically. "You're right." Before Woody could say anymore, the other Fable gestured to his bat and said, "Well, it's been a nice chat. But, uh, I've got stuff to do. Imp-hunting and whatnot."

"Yeah. Good luck with that," Woody said, but Blue had already turned around and exited the alleyway. He looked after him sadly. Bigby would be alright. They had to believe that.

* * *

It was quiet outside, for the first time in days. Not a single car passed by. Snow was relieved. Finally, she could get some sleep.

She rolled over in her bed and looked at Bigby, at his shaggy brown hair and stubbled jaw. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was even. It was good to have him back after so long. But then again, she'd always known he would come back to her. He always did. She reached up to trace his cheek when a voice sounded from behind her.

"Hey, Mayor. Long time, no see."

Snow froze and rolled over to see Bloody Mayor sitting on her dresser. She let out a small shriek and jumped in her bed, sitting up. "You again!"

Mary smiled. Just like before, her skin looked to be made out of broken, colored glass. Somehow, she seemed more fragile than she had been. The glass chunks that made up her body were in smaller pieces, and a few parts looked to have fallen out, creating a dark window into what appeared to be a hollow body. "Good to see you, too," she said.

Her voice was thin and reedy. It made Snow shiver. She remembered when the Fable's tone had always been strong and snarky. Perhaps death was a humbling experience.

Snow glanced over at Bigby's sleeping form and felt a wave of sadness wash over her. "Am I dreaming?" she asked.

Mary sighed and shifted in her position on top of the dresser. "I'm sorry, but yes," she said.

Snow kept her eyes like on Bigby. He was right there, right next to her. He seemed so real that the mayor felt like she could just reach out and touch him. "So Bigby's not really here," she said sadly.

"No," she heard Mary reply from behind her.

She swallowed back tears. She wouldn't cry in front of Mary, not even in a dream. "What would happen if I woke him?" she asked. Would he act like Bigby? Would she be able to hold him close and tell him that she loved him?

Mary's response answered her question. "You won't be able to," she said.

Snow looked back over at the Fable. Her limbs suddenly felt very heavy. All the same, she pushed herself up and climbed out of bed. She straightened her back and looked Mary in her blood red eyes. "I'm sorry," she said.

The other Fable looked surprised. "What for?" she asked.

"You warned me this would happen. I didn't believe you, and now, Bigby is gone."

This made Mary smile. "Well, I'm grateful for the apology, but that's not what I came for," she said. Her voice was so quiet, Snow could barely hear her.

She looked at Mary curiously. "Then why are you here?" she asked.

Instead of answering her, the Fable looked down at her cracked and crumbling hands. The glass chunks clinked together as she spread her fingers out. "I won't be able to see you again after this, at least not through your dreams." She paused and heaved a big sigh. Snow had never seen her so sad before. Mary looked at Snow. Her eyes seemed a little dimmer. "I'm fading away, as I should've done a long time ago. This is the last time I'll be able to help you."

Snow swallowed. "Well, you never know. Fable's don't really die. You'll reform eventually." She had no idea why she felt the need to comfort Mary. After all, she'd tried so hard to kill her not too long ago. Still, the idea of her death saddened the mayor for some reason.

In response, Mary snorted. "Sure, in a century or two," she said.

Snow shrugged. "Time passes quickly for our kind."

Mary gave her a sad smile. "Not so much when you're dead."

She didn't really know what to say to that, so she just stayed silent. After a little bit, Mary spoke up. "Anyway, I didn't come here to throw myself a pity party. I know how you can find Bigby," she said.

At this, Snow's eyes brightened. "What?" she asked in disbelief. "But…but Frau Totenkinder told me it was impossible. How would _you_ know how to open the portal?" she gasped.

Mary smirked, and for a moment, she looked a little bit like her old self. "I know a thing or two about blood magic," she said smugly. "It is in the name, after all. Believe it or not, Totenkinder doesn't know everything."

Snow immediately glared at the other Fable. "If you're suggesting sacrifice, you can go ahead and forget it. Maybe it slipped your mind, being dead and all, but killing people is kind of taboo around here," she said.

Mary raised her hands, the glass crackling at the movement. "Calm down, Mayor. That's not what I was saying."

Snow narrowed her eyes. "Then what is it?"

Mary pursed her lips thoughtfully. "It's true that spilled blood is powerful. That's how Totenkinder got all her magic, but sacrifice isn't the only type of blood magic that's out there. There's also shared blood."

"Shared blood? What are you talking about?" Snow asked.

The other Fable paused, as if pondering the right way to explain it. After a minute, she said, "Think of it like magnetism. Even from a distance, there's an attraction. Blood calls to blood. That's why twins often have strong psychic connections – because of their shared blood. If you have someone who shares blood with Bigby here, then with the right spells, you could pull said person through the dimensions, and they'd be able to go to Bigby." Mary gave Snow a pointed look. "That person is you."

The mayor looked confused. "I don't know what you mean. Bigby and I aren't even remotely related. How could this possibly work for us?"

Mary nodded. "You're right about one thing. You and Bigby aren't related. But you _do_ have shared blood."

"How?"

The other Fable didn't answer. She just stared at the mayor.

Snow shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Stop that. Just tell me what our 'shared blood' is," she demanded. Again, Mary didn't speak, but continued to stare at her. Snow felt her face start to get hot with anger. "You insist that you want to help, and yet you're not doing a damn thing! If you really want to help me, then stop being so cryptic, and give me some answers," she snapped.

Finally, Mary reacted. Though she still didn't talk, she broke eye contact with the mayor. Her eyes slid away from Snow's and travelled down, resting on the mayor's belly.

It took her a moment before it clicked. Snow gasped, and her hand travelled down to her abdomen. "Wait. Are you saying that I'm –"

"There are risks, of course," Mary interrupted, looking back up and locking eyes with her. "Travelling through the realms is tricky. There can be consequences."

Snow stammered, "I know. But Mary, tell me –"

"Talk to Totenkinder. She'll confirm it for you."

"No, wait! Am I –"

"Good luck, Snow," Mary said. Snow's vision started to blur and darken.

"Wait," she said weakly, but it was too late. Everything turned black.


	10. A Drink on Me

**A/N: Yeah, yeah I know it's been a long wait. I've had a lot of stuff going on, but I finally managed to finish this chapter last night. You can go ahead and complain about my terrible authorship in your reviews. Special thanks goes to FineChyna for helping me with this chapter. You all should totally read her stuff if you want to be cool. And now, for your reading pleasure, the next chapter!**

**To Lulidah: Yeah...not so much anymore...**

**To ShivaSpectrum: Glad you liked the reveal!**

**To Riverfang12: Really? The best chapter? That makes me so happy! And don't worry, whenever I read something fluffy, I literally squee in my chair. You're not that weird.**

**To FineChyna: As always, you're reviews are the highlight of my uploads. To answer your question, no, there was no smiting intended. (PS sorrysorrysorry I am so so sorry please forgive my weak heart)**

**To LostHero171: You don't trust me? Gosh, Hero, that cut me. That cut real deep.**

**To TheKittenAuthor: Again, I apologize for any inconsistencies, but honestly, I ****_hate_**** Rose Red with a burning passion. She is so needy and petty and I can't stand her. So, yes, for the sake of my sanity, I am leaving her out of this story.**

**To Rossana's Mind: *smirks and waggles eyebrows* you liiiiiiiike?**

**To wildwolf007: I am super happy that you liked it! Originally, I was going to try something else, but then I thought, "Baby...why not?" So, here you go, for your reading pleasure!**

**To Maltese Ken: Eh, who knows? She might return ;) Thanks for reviewing.**

**To MurderousGirl97: OH MY GOD I KNOW RIGHT?**

**To Guest: All in good time, dear. All in good time**

**To Andrew 2000: I am so sorry about how late this chapter is. I am almost weeping in shame, but I hope you're able to bear through my terrible updates.**

**To SeaWolfAlchemist: It is going to be interesting...**

**One more note, darlings. Words cannot describe my joy when I saw how many people reviewed. I almost cried, seriously. Your feedback gives me life, and I am so so grateful for whatever you can tell me about my story. Even if you didn't like it, please tell me, so that I can improve in future chapters. I love you all, and thank you.**

* * *

The day was going relatively well until they reached the village.

After breakfast, Bigby and Red had kept wandering through the forest. A few times, the werewolf had tried to make conversation, which had ended in disaster. So, they had continued their way in silence until the early evening, when he caught a strange scent.

"The Adversary?" Red had asked nervously, but Bigby shook his head. He glanced over at the Fable and couldn't help the feeling of guilt from finding its way back into his chest. Every time she looked at him, she was either scared out of her wits or pissed as all hell. It was obvious she'd never like the wolf, but he still hoped that he could get her to trust him.

Helping her get to the mundy realm would help with that. At least, he hoped so.

"It's strange. I can't discern one scent from another," he said to her. "That probably means that there's a village not too far from here. Maybe we can get some food." Bigby could go a while without eating, but Red was much more fragile than him. After the first few hours of walking, she'd shown signs of fatigue and dehydration. He'd offered to morph into a wolf and carry her, but she'd adamantly refused. It was probably for the best. Red didn't need any more reminders of Bigby's true nature.

At the mention of food, the other Fable's mood had improved considerably When they reached the village, she was almost cheerful.

It wasn't a lot to look at. The whole thing consisted of little more than a public square and a few cottages. Still, it was a welcome sight. Bigby started forward, Red keeping close behind him. _She always looks to me for protection, yet she can't stand the sight of me,_ he thought. He didn't really know what to make of that.

"Do you think we'll be able to get a bed for the night?" he said in a conversational tone.

Red frowned dubiously. "We don't have any money. If we're lucky, we might be able to sleep in an attic or basement, but we won't be able to stay for long," she said. Bigby sighed. He wasn't much looking forward to another night alone with Red in the woods.

They came to what looked like the only inn there. As they neared, Bigby's nose wrinkled in disgust. Dozens of different smells were berating his nostrils. The sensory overload was almost as bad as New York. He paused at the door, causing Red to bump into him. "What is it?" she asked.

"This…this doesn't smell right," the werewolf replied uncertainly. He felt his eyes tear up at the strength of the stench behind those doors. Right then, he was willing to kill someone for a cigarette – anything to distract him from the onslaught of smells. He struggled to say, "I'm not sure about this place."

"Should we move on?" the other Fable suggested.

Bigby inhaled deeply. After a few moments, he spoke. "It's going to be dark soon. Besides, we need to find a witch soon if we're ever going to get back to the mundy world." Before Red could object, he reached forward and opened the door. As the heavy wood creaked open and the pair of Fables stepped through the threshold, both of their mouths fell open. "Holy shit," Bigby said quietly.

It could have been a zoo in there, except all the creatures had pints of ale and plates of food, and they were all shouting and barking at each other in an assortment of languages. There were ogres, trolls, goblins, and imps. A few grizzly-looking Fables were also scattered about the dining room, but Bigby guessed that they were just as friendly as the rest of the beasts.

"Bigby," Red said, so quietly that the werewolf could barely hear her above the racket of the creatures, "we should leave. We should leave right now."

"This may be our only chance of finding a witch," Bigby whispered back, though he was also having doubts about their chances of surviving the night. He glanced over at his companion and instantly felt worried. A pretty young girl like her normally wouldn't last a few hours in a place like that without being raped and murdered. They'd have to be careful. "Just stay close to me, and don't talk to anyone," he said to her before walking further into the inn.

The werewolf around the room carefully and decided very quickly that they wouldn't be able to spend the night. Still, they needed food and information, and that seemed to be the only place to get it. As they neared the counter, Bigby allowed himself to morph ever so slightly. His beard grew out along with his claws and fangs, and his eyes turned bright amber. It was probably best to blend in. Two regular-looking Fables in an almost exclusively monster-run pub would stick out like a sore thumb.

He seated himself at the counter and pulled Red into the seat to his left. She had pulled her hood over her head, and her brown eyes were downcast and hollow-looking. Bigby could help but be impressed.

Behind the counter stood a relatively pissed-off-looking satyr. He was built like a football player, with broad, muscular shoulders and a scarred and hairy chest. Two dull horns curved up from his muss of brown hair, one with the top half completely broken off. Bigby wasn't normally wary of satyrs, but this one looked to be a good deal tougher than the ones the werewolf had encountered in the past.

All the same, he gave the bartender his best glare and growled, "Ale."

The satyr matched Bigby's scowl easily. He leaned over the counter. "You got any money to pay for it?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

"I might," the werewolf replied, "or you could just give me some fucking ale." Red gave him a strange look, like a warning. Bigby knew that this attitude could very well get them killed, but being around that many monsters made him hostile. The words spilled out of his mouth before he could think twice.

In response, the satyr drew himself up. He looked like he was about to start something when a voice spoke from Bigby's right. "That's one way of ordering around here," it said.

The werewolf glanced over to see an ogre sitting on the stool next to him. Its skin looked like a bunch of green pebbles held together by a thick, leather membrane. A pair of tusks grew out of his lower jaw, and his head was completely bald save for a few translucent hairs. He wore a leather vest that couldn't be tied over his enormous belly. In his hand, he held a large tin mug filled to the brim with a purple, frothy drink. Bigby detected a hint of amusement in his pure black eyes.

The ogre chuckled to the bartender, "Go get him the ale, Merek. It's on me." His voice sounded like a tuba, deep and rumbly.

The satyr grumbled his disapproval, but disappeared behind a shelf to get another cup. As he left, the ogre turned back to Bigby and laughed again. "You want to be careful using too much snark on that satyr. He might not be the most frightening Fable around, but he's stronger than he looks."

That was probably saying a lot, since he looked pretty damn strong. Still, Bigby sniffed indifferently. "I could take him," he growled before the satyr appeared from behind the shelf with a mug of ale in his hand. He slid it over the counter to Bigby, making sure to spill a good deal of it. Then, he scowled at the werewolf once more and walked to the other end of the counter. The Fable huffed took a gulp of his drink.

The ogre beside him laughed again. "That, I'd like to see," he said. After a pause, he took a drink from his own pint before saying, "Name's Ulric the Bone-crusher." He grinned. "A given name, for obvious reasons."

Bigby couldn't help but snort. This guy seemed alright for an ogre. "Bigby," he said over the rim of his mug. "Short for Big Bad." He had to admit, it felt pretty good to use his full name again.

"Big Bad. Well, I'll be careful to stay on your good side," Ulric said with another chuckle. Then, he caught sight of Red, who was still sitting quietly on Bigby's left. He whistled. "That is one lovely prize you have there. Where'd you find her?"

The werewolf looked back over at the other Fable, thinking quickly. Finally, he said, "Her? She was just in the middle of the woods, all by herself. I couldn't resist." He felt a little disgusted at his words, but he couldn't give up the act right then.

Ulric wasn't helping. He grinned and shook his head. "Wish I had me one of those. Gal like that, I could play around with for a long time," he said. Projecting his voice so that Red could hear, he said, "How would you like that, sweetheart? Think you could handle it?"

Bigby gritted his teeth and tightened his grip around the pint, careful not to let too much of his anger show. He was starting to like the ogre less and less. Thankfully, Red didn't speak up. She kept her gaze strictly to the counter, empty and thoughtless.

Ulric frowned. "What, is she broken?" he complained to Bigby.

The werewolf replied in a low voice, "She doesn't talk much."

The ogre looked disappointed. "Oh," he said simply, drinking again from his mug.

Bigby took a deep breath. Then came the hard part. He leaned back and tapped on the bar counter absentmindedly. He tried to keep a conversational tone as he spoke. "So, I'm kind of new in town," he said, "and I'm looking for a witch. You wouldn't happen to know of any around here, would you?" He finished by glancing back up at the ogre, raising an eyebrow.

Ulric's frown deepened, and he scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Why would you want to go looking for a witch?" he inquired. "They're nothing but trouble. Take it from someone with experience."

Bigby raised a curious eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

The ogre winced and said, "Well, I used to have a great home under a bridge. Lots of food, plenty of cowering villagers to amuse myself with… Long story short, I'm not a huge fan of goats anymore. Took me while to warm up to Merek, and he's still a testy son of a bitch."

The werewolf nodded in understanding. "Even so, I need a witch," he said.

"Why would that be?"

Bigby narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "It's a sensitive subject."

"Ah." Ulric finished off his drink and slammed the mug down on the table. "Sensitive stuff. Of course." He sniffed and paused, as if deep in thought. Then, he said, "Well, it's none of my business. All I can tell you is that witches are tricky little wenches. You should be careful."

"I'll manage."

The ogre nodded and said, "In that case, there's a sorceress not too far from here. She lives around –"

"_Stop_!"

All the noise in the room halted, and Bigby whipped his head around to see Merek clopping over to him, looking even angrier than he had before. Before the werewolf could speak, the satyr pointed an accusatory finger at him and practically shrieked, "Don't tell him anything! He is an enemy of the Emperor!"

_Shit_, Bigby thought. He glanced over at Red. Her eyes were no longer dull and empty, but wide with terror. Her skin was so pale, she could have been a ghost. _I have to protect her_, he thought. The werewolf gathered his wits and met the satyr's gaze. "Oh? And I suppose you have proof of this?" he asked acidly.

At that, Merek chuckled. It was dry and humorless – not like Ulric's deep, hearty laugh. "I don't need any proof, _mutt_," he said. "'Bigby, short for Big Bad?' You should have used a fake name."

Bigby felt his blood turn cold as the bartender looked around the room and continued in a loud voice, "That there's the Big Bad Wolf!" Immediately, all the creatures in the room shifted, and Bigby saw a few hands fall to their weapons. Merek looked at him and grinned wickedly. "Word's been getting around, Wolf," he said. "You've been a thorn in the Emperor's side for a few centuries now."

The werewolf's heart was beating rapidly. _Stay calm. This can still work_, he thought before saying, "Why would you help the Adversary? He's never done anything for you, save for stealing your land and killing your prey. I'm not looking for any trouble here. I just need to get what I came for, and I'll be on my way."

Before he could even finish the sentence, the satyr laughed again. "Well would you look at that. This dog's pretty well tamed!" he jeered. He waited for a few of the monsters to laugh at his insult, and then continued, "I'll tell you what the Emperor can do for us, Wolf. He can give us gold. I hear there's a pretty price on your head, and I mean to collect it." He turned around and shouted to the crowd, "As well as some of these fine gentlemen here. Isn't that right, boys?" They roared in agreement.

Bigby set his pint on the counter and started to push himself off the chair. "You'll find that won't be an easy feat to accomplish," he said in a warning tone.

Merek didn't seem to care. Instead, he glanced over at Red, and Bigby felt his heart nearly stop. Before he could act, the satyr had grabbed the Fable roughly by the arm and yanked her away from the counter. She let out a yelp of alarm, but it ended in a cough as the satyr grabbed her throat tightly and glared into Bigby's eyes. "Oh, look-y here! If he's the dog, you must be his bitch," he hissed in Red's ear. She whimpered, but couldn't speak any more than that.

The werewolf's eyes flashed. He was vaguely aware of his vision getting sharper and his claws growing longer. "Let her go," he growled, his voice low and animalistic.

But the bartender only grinned. "No, I don't think I will. See, I hear the bounty's just for you. It didn't say anything about sweet-tits here," he said. A chorus of _whoop_s sounded around the room, and Bigby scanned his surroundings.

_There's no reasoning with these things_, he realized. _I can talk all I want, but that won't stop them from tearing Red apart._ He glared back up at Merek. These were monsters. All they understood were other monsters.

Fine. He could work with that.

The only warning the satyr got was that the werewolf bared his teeth and took a step forward. After that, there was a flurry of motion. Red was knocked to the side, and she fell to the floor with a shriek. There was a sound like steel striking steel, and then an abrupt gurgle. By the time anyone could make sense of what had happened, it was already done.

Red screamed. Though nobody else acted as extremely, there was a collective gasp around the room. Any weapons that had been unsheathed immediately fell to the floor, and every single monster took a step back.

Merek's body was lying on the ground, a ragged hole ripped in his chest. Bigby stood over the fresh corpse, the satyr's steaming heart clutched tightly in his clawed hand. He held the bloody organ up so that all could see, and then spoke up.

"I recognize that I haven't been in the Homelands for a while. Of course, I never expected to have a warm welcome party, but it seems as if you all have forgotten your places in my absence," he said, projecting his voice so it could be heard across the room. "Allow me to educate you."

The werewolf started to walk around the room, making eye contact with every single monster. All of them shrank away from his intense gaze. "Any Fable who thinks he can take me in a fight is welcome to try," he said. "I'll gladly take his heart, too. I will slaughter each and every one of you and leave a pile of corpses in the town square so tall that the Adversary will be able to see it from his balcony. However, if you feel like living through the night, you could go back to your drinks and leave me to my business. The choice is yours." Then, Bigby raised his chin and allowed himself a smirk. "Any questions?"

The silence was deafening. The werewolf nodded. "I didn't think so," he said before turning back to Ulric the ogre, who was still sitting on his bar stool, dumbstruck. "Where did you say this witch was again?" he asked kindly.

* * *

Later, when Bigby and Rose had taken their leave of the village and were walking through the forest along the path that the ogre had suggested, the werewolf glanced over at the other Fable and said, "Red?"

"Yes, Bigby?"

"What I did…back there at the pub…you know that wasn't me, right? I was only doing what I had to to get the information we needed," he said.

Without turning her head, Red nodded. "I know that, Bigby," she replied evenly.

He could smell her lie.


	11. Identity Theft is No Laughing Matter

**A/N: UPDATE EXTRAVAGANZA. MORE WILL COME. PREPARE YOURSELVES. GO TO FINECHYNA'S PAGE TO SEE HER AWESOMENESS. PS: Sorry for the shortness of the chapter. Hopefully, you can still enjoy it.**

**To FineChyna: Thank you! I kinda missed Big Bad Bigby, so that part was just a little treat for me. I am certainly happy that you liked it.**

**To LostHero171: Well, I'm going to go ahead and take that as a complement.**

**To Andrew 2000: INDEED MUCH TENSION. MANY EXPLODING. SUCH WOW.**

**To wildwolf007: I am super glad that you like the chapter, and I promise to feature more of Snow's baby. I think I'm going to make this story longer than Animals, so I can include more stuff in it. Thank you for commenting!**

**To Riverfang12: Thank you, and sorry about the heart thing.**

**To SeaWolfAlchemist: I imagine they smell like fresh ocean breeze, but I could be wrong. You should talk to a werewolf and find out.**

**To Rosanna's Mind: Soon, my pretty. Soon.**

* * *

"Well," Totenkinder said, "she wasn't lying."

Snow's mouth dropped open. She was once again sitting in the witch's living room, except this time, her long black hair was down and flowed freely down the back of her ivory blazer. Totenkinder was standing next to the mayor's armchair, bent over slightly so that her hands were hovering over Snow's belly.

Standing towards the door to the room was Boy Blue. Originally, Snow wasn't sure whether or not she should have the other Fable accompany her to the witch's apartment, but then she decided that whatever Totenkinder told her concerned all of Fabletown, and Blue helped her run the community just as much as Bigby had.

For the most part, he had remained quiet, but when Totenkinder spoke, his mouth dropped almost as much as Snow's had.

The witch eyed them both with disapproval. "Cover your mouth, dear," she said. "You'll catch flies."

The mayor snapped her mouth shut, but her blue eyes were still wide with shock. After a few shaky breaths, she said, "I can't believe it. You mean I'm _pregnant_?" she gasped. Without even thinking about it, Snow rested her hand on her stomach.

Totenkinder stepped away and sat down in her armchair. "It would appear so," she said. "Congratulations."

Snow gulped. Her mind was in a frenzy. The room felt very hot all of a sudden. It took her a moment to realize that the two other Fables were staring at her, as if waiting for her to say something. Finally, she found her voice. "I – I'm sorry," she stammered. "I just need a moment."

Blue spoke up then. "Well, this is good news, isn't it?" he asked. "Bloody Mary said you could do a spell to get Bigby back into this realm." He looked between Snow and Totenkinder. "Right?"

The mayor frowned. "That not exactly what she said –"

"That won't be possible," Totenkinder interrupted.

"Why not?"

The witch sighed and walked back over to her armchair. "Blood magic works in very specific ways. Theoretically, I could transport Bigby to us using the tether between you two. However, to do that, I'd need to know his exact location in the other realm, and there is no way to find that out without putting both him and me in serious danger."

Snow seemed to deflate. "So what you're saying is that this is basically useless."

"Not exactly," the witch responded.

The mayor sighed in exasperation. "Could you _please_ stop talking in circles and actually be clear for once? Would that be too much to ask?" she asked with frustration.

Totenkinder raised an eyebrow, more amused than offended. "I won't be able to pull Bigby to us, but it is possible that I could send you to him." Before either of the Fables could ask how, she continued, "It would work like a scrying glass. Using the link created by your shared blood, I could find his approximate location. It wouldn't be exact, but when you arrive in the other realm, you should be close enough to find each other easily."

Snow seemed to brighten, but then a thought occurred to her. She furrowed her brow and asked, "But how would be able to get back?"

"Therein lies our problem. I don't know," the witch answered.

Then, Blue spoke up. "So they'd be stuck there. Forever."

Totenkinder took a deep breath and rubbed her chin thoughtfully, leaning back in her armchair. "Not necessarily forever. Given enough time and the right resources, I might be able to find the right spell to open a small portal into the inner realms, but that would take weeks, maybe even months." She looked between Blue and Snow and said, "Also, there would still be the problem of finding out where to open the portal, since I'd have no idea where your or Bigby would be."

Snow pinched the bridge of her nose. They were so close to finding a way to reach Bigby, she could feel it. But every single solution they came up with seemed to create two new problems. She paused for a moment to think. "What if we signaled you somehow, from the Homelands? What if we found some sort of way to project our position to you?" she asked.

The witch frowned. "Well, I have no idea how you'd accomplish that, but if you did manage to tell me your location, then I'd know where to open the portal."

"Hold on," Boy Blue said suddenly. Both Snow and Totenkinder turned to him as he continued, "Snow, you can't honestly be thinking about doing this? I mean, it's one thing to have a plan on how to get Bigby back, but you're suggesting that you just waltz into the Homelands with no way to get out."

"That's not what I'm saying, Blue!" the mayor said.

The other Fable raised an eyebrow dubiously. "Really? Then how do you plan on getting back?" Before she could answer, he added, "Exactly."

Snow clamped her mouth shut. She took a few deep breaths before saying, "If there is any chance I have to bring Bigby back, then I need to take it."

"_What chance_?" Blue said with exasperation. "Snow, this is suicide! We don't even know what this type of spell will do to you." He turned to Frau Totenkinder. "Do we?"

The witch paused to think for a moment. "Transportation spells always have side effects. Nose bleeds, headaches, disorientation, minor things of that sort. But blood magic is complicated and hard to predict. I can't know for sure how this will turn out," she said.

"You see?" Blue said, looking back at the mayor. "It's too risky. Plus, you're pregnant. Not to be disrespectful or anything, but it's not just your life at stake here."

Snow shook her head before Blue even finished talking. She knew what he said was true, that using Mary's blood spell was probably too dangerous, but she _couldn't _bring herself to say no. If she had an opportunity to save Bigby, and she did nothing, then she wouldn't be able to live with herself. "Blue, you don't understand. I _have _to do this," she said.

The other Fable was dumbstruck, but Totenkinder looked over at the mayor and said, "It seems as if there's no changing your mind."

Snow met the witch's gaze. "There really isn't," she replied.

"Well, then," she said, standing up. The old Fable brushed out the wrinkles form her soft green dress and gave the mayor an unsettling look, like she was a guinea pig that she couldn't wait to experiment on. "Let's get started."

* * *

The pain was overwhelming. It felt like the very blood in her veins was yanking her around. Her senses seemed to fuse together. Colors whistled passed her. The air was filled with screams and the stench of sulfur. Snow struggled to breathe, but the air seemed to beat the air out of her. It was simultaneously scorching hot and freezing cold. _I'm going to die here_, she thought.

And just like that, it was all gone. Snow stumbled forward and fell onto her knees, panting. There was still a burning sensation in her veins, but at least all that _noise _had stopped.

Snow tried to climb to her feet, but as soon as she tried, she fell back onto the ground with a gasp of pain. She looked around. It was late into the night. The air was warm and heavy, but the mayor was still shivering. Then, she felt a strong sour taste fill her mouth just before she heaved her last two meals onto the earthen floor.

_Disorientation was an understatement_, Snow thought, rolling herself onto her back. The Fable was dressed in black combat boots, a grey tee, army pants, and a jacket, and her hair was pulled into a high ponytail. While she had considered dressing to blend it, Blue and Totenkinder both agreed that utility was far more important.

Taking a few minutes to gather herself, Snow went through what she remembered from surviving in the woods. It had been a while since she'd last needed to use those skill, but she still remembered the basics – how to build a fire, which plants were OK to eat, so on and so forth.

The Fable fingered the leather holster that was attached to her belt. With any luck, she wouldn't have to use her silver-loaded pistol, but even so, Snow had been practicing her aim. She reckoned she was a pretty good shot by then.

After a while, Snow tried once again to climb to her feet. Her limbs still trembled, but her legs were finally able to support her weight. "Where am I?" she muttered to herself.

Through the trees, Snow could make out lights. Taking a deep breath, she started forward.

The lights came from a small, run-down looking village. _Could Bigby be there?_ she wondered. Totenkinder had said that Snow would land near the werewolf. If the blood spell had taken her to the village, then Bigby would have to be close by. Snow rested a hand on her gun holster, more for reassurance than anything else. Then, she entered the village.

It looked as if there was only one inn there, but it didn't look too friendly. Shouts and laughing could be heard from inside. Those were normal noises for a pub, but the mayor could also hear snorts, roars, scratching and an unsettling crackling noise. She gulped. Maybe she wouldn't stay the night, but at least she could check the place out, see if anybody had seen Bigby around.

Content with her plan, Snow opened the door, entered the inn, and immediately regretted it. The air inside was hot and thick with the stench of blood and sweat. Monsters of all sorts were crammed into the small space that was the dining room, and they looked none too happy. Even for a monster pub, it seemed as if everybody was less at ease than usual. Snow wondered if a fight had broken out.

When she opened the door, most of the monsters hadn't noticed, but a few turned their heads and gave her suspicious looks. The Fable felt something warm and wet slide down her cheek. _Oh, fuck, am I crying?_ she thought to herself. She decided against wiping it away. It was bad enough that there were tears, but trying to hide them was like wearing a big neon sign that said, _Hey! I'm completely vulnerable! Come eat me!_

_Too late to turn back now_, Snow thought as she stepped into the room and up towards the bar counter. She took the only empty seat there and glanced around curiously. "Shouldn't there be a bartender?" she asked aloud.

She instantly wished that she had kept her mouth shut, because when she spoke, the ogre to her right turned to look. Seeing her face, its eyes widened in surprise. Snow tried not to let her confusion show on her face. Did he look…scared?

The ogre didn't seem to notice her puzzlement and said, "There was an…incident. The bar's currently out of service."

Snow nodded, though she still didn't completely understand. Before she could reply, however, a voice sounded from behind her. "Hey, Ulric? Who's the meat?" it said.

The Fable turned to see who had spoken. A weedy ghoul was seated at a table a few yards away, a nasty grin stretching the pale, waxy skin of his face. As soon it caught sight of Snow, however, its smile evaporated.

Snow couldn't take it anymore. She reached a hand up and dabbed some of the wetness on her cheek, then looked down at her hand. It took all of her restraint not to yelp at the dark red liquid that coated her fingers. The witch had mentioned that there might be nosebleeds, but _eyebleeds_?

She recovered quickly though, and met the ghoul's stare unwaveringly. "Who am I?" she repeated in a strong tone. Her mind was racing. _OK, what's the answer that is less likely to kill me?_ Combat boots, silver pistol, and bleeding eyes. Finally, she decided, and Snow gave the ghoul a winning smile. "I'm sorry," she said sweetly, "I forgot to introduce myself. The name's Bloody Mary. You may have heard of me."

The ghoul didn't answer, but just continued to stare at the bloody tracks that ran down the Fable's face. In response, Snow turned around completely and glared into the monster's wide, pale eyes. "Is there something on my face?" she asked.

He shook his head, and Snow continued, "I'm just passing through, but while I'm here, maybe one of you fine gents can give me a hand. I'm looking for a man. Brown hair, may have gone by the name Bigby… Sound familiar?"

She wasn't expecting the reaction she got. Anybody who had heard her immediately got quiet and exchanged nervous glances. Snow looked around curiously. "Is that a yes?" she asked.

Finally, the ogre next to her spoke up. "Look, miss, we don't want any trouble," he said cautiously.

In response, Snow whipped her head around and glowered at him. "Am I supposed to care?" she snarled.

The ogre held up his hands fearfully, and the Fable suddenly realized why so many monsters enjoy doing what they do. To have this kind of power over Fables…it could get addictive. "N-no," the monster stammered. "I'm just saying –"

"The Wolf passed by about an hour ago," the ghoul interrupted. "He was looking for a witch, and he had a little girl with him."

Snow peered at the ghoul. _Little girl_? "What little girl?" she asked.

"I don't know," he responded, "but she had a red cloak. She didn't do much, but the Wolf seemed to be looking after her. Our bartender, Merek, he tried to start something, but, uh…" The ghoul trailed off and looked at the ogre, who immediately looked down.

Snow turned and stared at the ogre. He shifted uneasily beneath her gaze. The Fable cocked her head to the side and said, "Ulric, right?" The ogre nodded silently. Snow leaned forward. She tried to keep her expression confident, but she hoped that nobody could hear her heart beating a million miles an hour. "Ulric?" she said slowly.

The ogre looked up, and Snow tried not to let her surprise show. He looked almost as scared as she felt. She couldn't help but feel ill. Suddenly, she didn't like being Bloody Mary so much. All the same, she gave him a mocking smile and said, "Where's Bigby?"


	12. A Family Reunion

**A/N: Part 2 of update extravaganza! I can't be sure if there will be a part 3, since I'm leaving for a band competition in ten minutes, but I hope that you guys like this chapter all the same!**

**To FineChyna: The update has arrived, my friend.**

**To Rossana's Mind: Thank you very much! I just thought of the Bloody Snow at the last minute, and thought it would be a nice little thing to include.**

**To Riverfang12: That is good to hear.**

**To Kmsaum: Don't worry, I'm just super thankful every time you do manage to review. I'm really happy that you like the chapters so far.**

**To SeaWolfAlchemist: I agree, but nobody is always smart all the time.**

**To wildwolf007: That's mainly what I was thinking, too (you know, as far as the monsters being more scared that she's going after Bigby than they are scared of Snow herself). As for everything else, I guess you'll just have to read and find out.**

* * *

He didn't know what to think when he caught her scent.

There was happiness, which was to be expected. But then came confusion, worry, disbelief, surprise, and a whole slew of other things that made the werewolf's head spin. It wafted over to him, sweet, warm, familiar, and Bigby stopped dead in his tracks.

Red paused next to him and looked at the werewolf in confusion. "What is it?" she asked.

The werewolf didn't respond, but looked behind him, his eyebrows knitted together. "No…" he murmured in disbelief. He turned around and started to walk back down the path which he had come from. He heard Red follow him, berating him with questions, but he wasn't really listening. _It's not possible_, the thought. _How is this possible?_

"Bigby, what are you doing?" Red practically shouted at him.

Again, he didn't answer, but inhaled deeply. The scent was strong, and it made the werewolf dizzy with happiness. "No way," he said again, louder now. His eyes widened, and he broke into a sprint.

"Bigby!" Red started to run after him, but he quickly lost sight of her. A pang went through him. Should he really leave her alone?

But the scent was so _strong_, and he was so _close_.

It took him less than three minutes to find her. She was only about a mile away, walking through the underbrush and weaving through trees. When Bigby finally caught sight of her, her face was covered in sweat, her hair was in disarray, and she had faint red smears under her eyes.

She had never looked so beautiful.

The werewolf leapt over one last bush and quickly closed the distance between him and Snow. At the last moment, Snow realized that there was something coming towards her. She yelled in surprised, her hand flying for a holster at her belt, but then froze when Bigby appeared through the trees.

They were both so still, just staring at each other. Bigby broke the silence when he said, "Snow…"

Then Snow let out a giddy laugh, and Bigby pulled her close. He held her tightly in the embrace, her head buried in his chest as he said breathlessly, "What are you doing here? How…how did you get here?"

"It was a spell." Snow's voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt, but he could hear that she was close to tears.

The werewolf smiled and hugged her tighter, breathing her in. Without even realizing it, he laughed. It had only been a few days, but it felt like forever. She smelled so sweet, and Bigby felt like he could stand there forever. He closed his eyes. "You smell different," he sighed into her ear.

Snow giggled and lifted her head so that she was looking into Bigby's eyes. "What?" she asked with a tiny laugh.

"It's a good different," he added quickly. "Like…milk. You smell like milk." Realizing what he just said, the werewolf's expression changed completely. He furrowed his brow and glanced down at Snow's face. She was biting her lip, like she was trying to hide a smile, and her blue eyes sparkled. "Why do you smell like milk?" he asked her.

She paused for a moment, then slowly took his hand and placed it on her belly. She leaned forward and stood up on her toes so that she could whisper in his ear, "I want you to guess."

When Snow pulled away, she watched Bigby's expression change from one of confusion to one of pure shock. He looked at her in disbelief and said, "You're not…"

Her face erupted in a grin, and she nodded.

The werewolf's jaw dropped, and his hand fell from her stomach. "But…Snow, what are you_ doing_ here? The Homelands are dangerous. You could get hurt, or…or…" Bigby trailed off and shook his head, at a loss for words. He couldn't think straight. In his mind, he just kept on repeating, _A father. I'm going to be a father._

He was pulled back to reality when Snow said, "I couldn't wait anymore, Bigby. Do you know how long it's been?" The werewolf didn't answer. He knew that time worked differently in the Homelands, but there had never been an exact way to measure how much time passed in the different realms. When he didn't say anything, Snow answered, "_Weeks_, Bigby. It's been _weeks_."

He stared at her. "Still, Snow, It's dangerous here. You should've waited," he said quietly.

"I know," she said. "I know, and I'm sorry. But Bigby, we're _here_. We're together." Snow reached up and cupped the werewolf's cheek. "Isn't that a good thing?" she asked.

For a moment, Bigby didn't do anything. Then, he placed his hand on top of Snow's, and allowed himself a smile. "Yes," he said, "it is."

The other Fable beamed up at him. As she smiled, a single drop of red slid down from her nostril, and Bigby's eyes widened in alarm. "You're bleeding," he said with concern.

"What? Oh, right," Snow said, wiping the blood away with the back of her hand. "It's just a side effect from the spell. Don't worry about it." Then, she looked up at Bigby and gave him a confused look. She dropped her hand from Bigby's face and said, "I, um, I went to a village while I was looking for you. They said that you were travelling with a girl."

Bigby's heart nearly stopped when he remembered. "Shit, Red!" he exclaimed. He turned around and looked behind him. She was still probably looking for him. How could he have been so stupid? The werewolf looked over at Snow. "We need to go. We need to find her," he said before starting back down the path at a brisk pace, Snow following close behind.

"Wait, find who?" she asked as she struggled to keep pace with the werewolf. He didn't answer, but after about five minutes, the pair found Red leaning against a large tree, trying to catch her breath. She was sweaty, and she breathed in small, short gasps. When she saw Bigby, her eyes lit up with fury.

"You…bastard!" she yelled breathlessly. She rose and stomped over to the werewolf, completely ignoring Snow as she continued, "Leaving me…alone…making me…run after you…" She coughed into her hand and wiped some sweat from her forehead. Then, she sniffed and looked over at Snow. "Who…is she?" she asked angrily.

Bigby glanced at Snow and took her hand. "Red, this is Snow White. We're…well, she's my…" The werewolf struggled for words. He didn't want to call her his girlfriend. That didn't seem to be enough now. Again, he heard a little voice in the back of his head say, _You're going to be a father_.

Luckily, Snow saved him. She smiled at Red and said, "Bigby and I are very close."

Red looked at Snow in disbelief. "You…you know him?" she asked. Then, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Are you a wolf?" she asked.

This time, Bigby spoke. His eyes widened. "No!" he said quickly. "She's just…she's like you."

Red nodded, and then Snow eyed her scarlet cloak. "Red?" she asked. "You're not Red Riding Hood, are you?" The other Fable nodded cautiously, and Snow gave Bigby a questioning look.

"I'll explain later," he said before looking up at the moon. "It's late. We should try to cover some more ground before we stop for the night." Snow agreed. They waited a few minutes to let Red catch her breath, and then continued down the path

* * *

Snow and Red were walking along the path alone. Bigby had morphed into a wolf a few minutes earlier and went off to hunt, telling the other two Fables that when he came back with food, they could stop and make camp.

At the time, Snow had considered it a good plan, but now she was having second thoughts. It wasn't hard to gather that Red wasn't overly fond of the werewolf, but that became increasingly apparent as the minutes dragged on. She never said a word, but Snow caught the sideways glances that the other Fable gave her.

Finally, Snow spoke up. "Is there something you wanted to say?" she asked.

Red jumped, startled by the statement. "I'm sorry?" she asked.

Snow looked at her. "Did you want to ask me anything?" she said. When the other Fable shook her head, the mayor sighed. She decided to try a different tactic. "Let me guess," she said. "You're wondering why a normal Fable like me would want to be around someone like Bigby." Again, Red looked surprise, but then she nodded. Snow said, "I don't suppose you'd believe that Bigby's changed his ways?"

At that, Red gave Snow a look of pure disbelief. "Miss, I know you must care for him, but you don't know what he's done," she said.

"I know," Snow replied simply.

Red's eyes widened. "And you still keep his company?"

The other Fable didn't know what to say to that. She gave Red a sympathetic look. She had more right than anyone to hold a grudge against Bigby, but she had to understand that he had reformed. If they were going to survive out there, then Red couldn't be spending every single minute fearing for her life.

Snow chose her words carefully. "I used to think that people could never change, that some actions could never be forgiven. I know that Bigby did terrible things in his past. We all have," she began.

"I haven't," Red interjected. "I was living peacefully in my cottage before he came along and…and he brought everything down."

The mayor frowned and continued, "I met Bigby just as the Adversary started taking over. I was a prisoner of his. I thought that my life was over, and then, out of the blue, Bigby came along and set all of us free." She gave Red a meaningful look. "When I first saw him, I was just as scared of him as you are now. But he led me to safety, and since then, he's saved my life more times than I can count. If it weren't for him, I would have died a long time ago."

Red still looked dubious. She glanced up at the stars and said with difficulty, "Miss, you seem like an honest person…"

"Yes?"

The other Fable took a deep breath. "Do you by any chance know what happened to a…friend of mine? He's a woodsman, and Bigby tells me that he escaped into a different realm, but I…" Red couldn't bring herself to finish. She swallowed audibly and gave Snow a pleading look.

Snow smiled. "Bigby was telling you the truth. Woody is safe," she said. "Maybe, once we find the witch, you can come back to the mundy world with us and see him again."

She had expected Red to look relieved, or happy, or something like that, but she could tell that the other Fable didn't believe a word she was saying. Was it really that hard to accept the fact that Bigby had changed? Snow sighed, not knowing what else she could do.

Before she could say anything else, she heard a rustling to her left. A moment later, Bigby appeared onto the path in human form, a large deer slung over his shoulder. He looked between the two Fables and said awkwardly, "I already ate, so…"

Snow smiled at him. "Thanks, Bigby," she said.

They cooked the deer and ate in silence. When they finished, they laid strips of leftover meat on a rack over the fire to make jerky. Then, they settled down for bed. Within minutes, Red was passed out from exhaustion, but Snow couldn't sleep. She snuggled close to Bigby and looked into his brown eyes. He gazed at her lovingly, then whispered, "You really should have waited for me."

Snow snorted quietly. "I don't care. I wanted to see you."

Bigby reached up with one hand and traced a line along Snow's cheekbone. Then, he cupped her chin and kissed her softly.

Snow pulled Bigby closer and relaxed into the kiss, deepening it. His stubble tickled her chin. She wanted to lie there forever, and melt into him. Without even thinking about it, Snow tugged at Bigby's shirt, starting to pull it off.

Then, Bigby drew back. "Wait," he said quietly.

Snow gave him a confused look. "What is it?" she asked.

"Should we really…I mean, with the baby…"

"Oh. Right." Snow settled back down, but kept her head resting on Bigby's chest. "Sorry," she said.

"No, no, that's fine," he said awkwardly. He placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her close. After a few minutes, he said, "I love you."

Snow closed her eyes and smiled. "I love you, too," she murmured. She didn't know how long they lied there, but it didn't feel like long enough before her eyelids started to droop. She fell asleep.

* * *

When Bigby woke up, it was still night. All of his senses rang so loudly, it was hard to make sense of anything. Something was very wrong. He shook Snow's shoulder lightly. "Snow, wake up," he whispered to her. She didn't respond. He looked down at her and rolled her over. It was then that he realized exactly what he was smelling.

Snow's eyes were open, and glazed over. Bloody tear tracks coated her cheeks, and more ribbons could be seen under her nose and out the corners of her mouth. With a shout, Bigby rose to his knees and bent over her, grabbing her shoulders and shaking them roughly. "Snow, wake up!" he repeated frantically.

He heard Red shift from her position a few meters away. "Bigby? What's happening?" she asked groggily.

Bigby didn't pay her any attention. "Snow, come on, don't do this!" Still, the Fable didn't respond. The werewolf looked her over and noticed another patch of red seeping onto the forest floor. "What…what the…" His eyes slid down her body and rested on the large pool that had gathered in between her legs. Bigby rested a hand on Snow's stomach and looked back into her blank eyes. "Snow?" he whispered.


	13. Tears of Life

**A/N: Words cannot express how sorry I am for this wait. It is truly unforgivable. I was trying my hand at NaNoWriMo, but that is no excuse to neglect you guys for so long, especially after the end to that last chapter. In all honesty, I probably would've waited even longer to upload this chapter, but I am feeling especially shitty right now and wanted to actually do something useful with my life. And by useful, of course, I mean write fanfiction. Even so, this chapter is far from perfect, so I apologize in advance for that. I want to give a special shoutout to FineChyna, for keeping me on top of this story. I thank you all for being so understanding, and again, I am so sorry.**

**On the bright side, I am trying to make my NaNoWriMo story into a legit novel. I am currently editing it and posting it on fictionpress dot com. It is titled "Irregulars" for any of you interested in reading it.**

**To FineChyna: Here's that update you wanted. Sorry.**

**To LostHero171: Thank you so much, and I'm afraid that I am very evil. As a matter of fact, the competition went great! We got straight superiors (the highest rating) from all seven judges. I am really happy about that.**

**To wildwolf007: Gosh, that's cold. But it's cool. I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I'm sorry about the whole dead-Snow thing.**

**To literally EVERYONE ELSE: YOU GUYS FRICKEN BROKE MY INBOX WITH YOUR "NO"S AND YOU COMPLAINTS AND STUFF I HAD TO FREAKING REBOOT MY COMPUTER AND SHIT THIS WAS SO OVERWHELMING I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY**

* * *

_This isn't happening. This is a dream_.

Bigby was frozen. He couldn't even register what was going on. All he saw was Snow's empty stare. All he could smell was the thick, red blood. He was vaguely aware of Red waking up a few meters away.

_This isn't happening._

He heard footsteps, and a Red was crouched next to him a moment later, staring in shock at Snow's still body. "Wha – what happened?" she gasped. Bigby didn't answer. He couldn't.

_This can't be happening._

"Bigby?" Red reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder, trying to get his attention. Bigby recoiled from her touch and looked up at the other Fable, as if just then acknowledging her existence. The look in her eyes was one of horror and shock. That look was what woke him up. He jumped to his feet and started to take off his shirt, fur already sprouting from his flesh.

Red hadn't moved from her position next to Snow. "Bigby, what are you doing?" she asked.

The werewolf didn't answer. Soon, his clothes were in a messy pile on the ground. He spoke as he shifted into his wolf form. "Take Snow and get on my back," he said. "We need to move quickly."

"I don't understand," Red said, but all the same, she gingerly took the lifeless Fable in her arms and climbed onto Bigby's back, clinging to his grey fur to hold herself in place while being careful not to drop Snow or Bigby's clothes. As soon as the wolf was certain that she had a secure grip, he began running along the trail.

In wolf form, he didn't need any daylight to see the path. He could smell the witch's magic from miles away. He heard Red ask, "What is this about?" Still, he didn't say anything. He had to focus. They had to be quick if this had any chance of working.

It was then that Red started to understand. "You're not thinking…maybe the witch…" she trailed off. Bigby's silence was answer enough. "It might not work," she said. Her voice was slow and cautious, like one wrong word would make the wolf snap.

"Shut up," he said gruffly. He couldn't be thinking like that. There was still hope.

"Bigby…she's cold."

"I said _shut up_, Red!" Finally, she obliged, and they continued through the woods in silence. Bigby didn't know exactly how long he was running. In his mind, the time flashed by in a blur of panic and fear.

He only knew they were close when Red suddenly spoke up. "Wait."

"What is it?" he snapped at her.

"We're going in circles."

"_What_?" The wolf slowed his pace until he was only going at a steady trot. "How do you know?"

Red hesitated. "I don't – I mean, I'm not sure, but do you see those boulders over there?" When Bigby eyed the mass of rocks, he began to understand exactly what Red was talking about. Once he actually thought about it, he was _certain_ that he had seen them before.

"_Fuck_," he growled, pacing around the boulders. He couldn't think straight. Not with Snow's blood soaking into the fur of his back. He bristled. "You're right."

"Why didn't you notice before? I thought that you could tell when things like this happen." Was it just him, or did Red sound like she was accusing him of something?

"I usually can," he said. "Something must be screwing my senses. Some sort of magic." He twisted his head around so that he could see the Fable clinging to the fur on his back. "We're close."

"How do we get passed this?" Red asked.

The wolf paused for a moment to think. Then, he said, "This looks like a low-level confusion charm, meant to throw us off course. Now that we're aware of it, it should be easier to see through to illusions. We just need to stay focused." Bigby looked around at his surroundings. The boulders caused a fork in the path, and he remembered hazily how he had consistently taken the one to the left. So. Right it was.

They continued along the dirt track, and the vise around Bigby's heart tightened with every passing second. When in wolf form, all of his senses were painfully sharp. He smelled Snow's aroma, normally light and relaxing, but now heavy and thick with the stench of blood. _We can make it. I can save her_, he thought frantically.

Then, he saw a glimmer through the trees, a small flickering light. Fire. Bigby's heart leapt. Not just any fire; this one was manmade. The wolf inhaled deeply, and he could feel magic sparking through the air. They'd made it. Bigby sprinted until he could see a large cave very clearly up ahead. He bounded forward, only to slam head-first into an invisible force.

His body pitched forward. Red was thrown from his back, and he heard her shriek as Snow's body slid off of him and fell to the ground. Bigby slumped down. For a moment, everything was black, but he regained his senses a few seconds later.

He picked himself upon shaking legs and shook his head. He glanced around and gave a pained yelp when he saw Snow lying on ground, her body limp like a ragdoll. He shuffled toward her and nudged her with his nose. He heard Red groan a few yards away. "Bigby?" she asked, climbing to her feet.

He felt panic swell up in his chest as he looked back at the entrance to the cave not ten yards away. He could see the glow from the fire. The wolf took a tentative step forward, but his snout pushed against the invisible wall once more. "We – we can't get through," he said frantically. "There's a charm. How are we supposed to get in?" He glanced back down at Snow. Touching her with his nose had caused some of her blood to rub off on him. Its acrid stench filled his nostrils, making him dizzy. "How are we supposed to get in?" he asked again, lifting his head to look at Red.

She was bruised on her arms and legs, and Bigby noticed a slight limp in her walk. The Fable gave him a sympathetic look and turned to the cave. "Hello?" she called. When there was no answer, she tried again. "Please! Please, we need your help. Are you the sorceress of these woods?"

For a few seconds, all Bigby could hear was the beating of his own heart. Then, footstep. A young woman appeared in the cave, and the wolf's breath caught in his throat. At first glance, she looked like Snow, with blue-black hair and pale, ivory skin. But as he looked closer, he could see small differences. She was taller than Snow, with a slightly gaunt face and a long, slim neck. Her eyes were dark, mossy green, and she had thin, pale lips. "Who are you?" she asked suspiciously, eyeing Red. Her voice was thin and reedy. Bigby saw her eyes flick up to him before returning to the other Fable.

He was too shocked to speak, but Red started, "Please, we need your help. Could you let us in?" she asked, her voice breaking.

Again, the witch looked up at Bigby, her lip curling. "I don't welcome beasts into my home," she said haughtily.

Finally, Bigby found his voice. "Wait!" he cried, taking a small step forward. As he did so, he began to shrink. His fur slid back beneath his skin, and his bones bent and twisted until he was once more in the shape of a man. He staggered forward as his wolf legs grew back into those of a human's. He paid no attention to his nakedness, but dropped down to his knees and stared into the witch's eyes pleadingly.

"Please," he said. "You have to help us. My – she–" He looked back over at Snow, then again at the sorceress. "She's hurt. Please," he begged.

The woman took an involuntary step back at Bigby's new form, her expression shocked. Then she, too, looked at Snow's lifeless form lying in the grass, and Bigby could see a mental battle in her eyes. She sighed and waved a hand over her head. The werewolf saw a shimmer go through the air, and the witch spoke.

"Come quickly. And," she addressed Bigby, "cover yourself, if you can." Then, she turned and disappeared in her cave. Bigby stood up and reached a hand out, expecting to come into contact with the invisible wall again, but instead feeling nothing in the air. He exchanged glances with Red before grabbing his pants off the ground and pulling them up to his waist.

Not wasting time with the shirt and boots, the werewolf picked Snow up off the ground and followed the witch into the cave, Red in close pursuit. Soon enough, they arrived into a large, torch-lit room. A large woven rug covered most of the floor, and a long, wooden table rested in the center of the room, standing about two feet off the ground. Shelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with potions and herbs tucked away in different jars and bottles. The witch was facing away from the cave entrance, gathering a few ingredients from the shelves as Bigby and Red entered the room.

"Set her down on the table," she said curtly. Bigby did as he was bid, carefully resting Snow down on its wooden surface. He was barely able to hold his tears at bay when he looked down at her. She looked so small and broken, her blue eyes open, yet seeing nothing.

When the witch turned back around, she gave a start, gawking at Snow's body. "She's not injured," she said, sounding more indignant than shocked. "She's dead!"

"But you can help her," Bigby said, his voice coming out much smaller than he had expected. "You can bring her back."

The sorceress stared at the werewolf like he'd just lost his mind. "Death is a powerful force. Very few things are known to cure it. I'm not going to toy with this kind of magic for just anyone, boy," she said, eying him in disbelief.

Bigby felt his stomach drop. "What?" he said, his voice dangerously low. He took a step towards the witch, and she took a step back. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Red do the same. "What do you mean you're not going to do it?" he demanded.

The Fable did a good job of hiding her fear visually, but the werewolf could smell her unease. She managed to say in a steely voice, "You can't expect me to bring some random Fable back to life. I don't know you people. I have no reason to trust you. This kind of magic is very costly, and I can't just use it on anyone."

At that, the werewolf advanced, his eyes burning with rage. He closed the distance between them quickly. The witch tried to back up more, but she found herself cornered between the cave wall and the angry Fable. When she looked back up at him, Bigby could see a hint of fear flashing in her eyes.

"Listen to me, you little bitch," he snarled. "I did not come all this way just to be told 'no,' so let's try this again. You _will _heal her, or you will regret it." Their noses were almost touching, they were so close.

Still, the witch glared back up at Bigby, her gaze unwavering. "You don't know what you're asking, boy," she said, her voice strong and defiant.

The werewolf felt his claws and teeth start to grow in reaction to his anger. If she wouldn't help him voluntarily, then he would _make _her help. "Red, go outside," he said. This was about to get ugly, and he didn't want her to have to see it.

"No."

Bigby straightened his back. He turned around to see Red standing a few feet away, meeting his gaze. Unlike the witch, Red was terrible at hiding her fear. Her entire body shook, and tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. Even though, her expression was resolved. "What did you say?" he asked slowly.

"Bigby, this isn't the answer," she said, her voice trembling. "You…you can't threaten everybody into doing what you want. This can't be like the inn."

The werewolf recalled how he had ripped out the satyr's heart, the rush of blood through his veins and the roaring that had filled his ears when he truly became a monster in that second. That same rush was washing over him then, as he stared down Red Riding Hood.

"I have to save Snow, Red," he growled. "Now go outside, unless you want to watch."

But Red was not budged. "No," she said. "You need to leave, Bigby. Stand outside the cave until this is done. Leave this to me."

"You must be joking!" he roared.

"Bigby, you have to trust me. You're not thinking straight. I can do this, but you need to calm down," Red said.

Bigby's anger surged through his body. He turned his attention completely to Red, the witch forgotten. "I have to be here. For Snow," he said. He tried to keep his voice calm, but he felt doubt begin to crawl into his mind.

Red's expressions softened. "Please," she said gently. "Just let me help. Hurting her won't help anyone."

He glanced back at the witch uncertainly. She looked nervous, her eyes wide and wary. A single bead of sweat slid down her cheek. With a final look at Snow, he said to Red, "If this doesn't work, we'll do it my way." Then, he turned and exited the room, walking back the way they had come.

After a few seconds, the witch spoke up. "I'm not helping you people with anything. Get out of my cave right now," she said, her voice cold.

Red glared back at her. "That's not very wise. My friend wasn't joking when he said he'd do things 'his way,' and I guarantee that would be far less pleasant than just doing what we ask."

The other Fable bared her teeth and said, "You ask too much. This is powerful magic. Bringing someone back from the dead…that is very taxing, even to a witch like myself."

Red raised an eyebrow. "But you _can_ do it," she asked. Ever so slightly, the witch nodded, but said no more. Red sighed and continued, "You mustn't blame my friend. Snow is…very dear to him. He is grieving. She did not deserve to go the way she did." Red hoped she sounded convincing, even though she wasn't entire sure how Snow had 'gone' in the first place.

Still, the witch wasn't appeased. "It doesn't matter. I have precious little left, and I–"

"Precious little?" Red interrupted. "Of what?"

The other Fable didn't look happy, but then she started to walk towards her shelves. Moving slowly, she crossed the room and picked a decorated box off of one of the top shelves. She opened it to reveal a tiny crystal bottle tucked away in silken cloth. Clear, shimmery liquid filled the glass. Before Red could ask what it was, the witch spoke.

"Phoenix tears. They are very rare, but are known to cure anything…even death," she said, eying the bottle carefully.

Red's heart fluttered excitedly. She bit her lip said, "She had a child. A baby."

The witch shook her head. "I may be able to save one life with these tears, but two is asking too much. I cannot.

Red nodded slowly, but before she could say anything, the witch said, "Say I was moved to use my most valuable elixir on your friend. What would I get in return?"

At that, Red was stumped. "I…I have nothing I can give you," she said.

The Fable didn't look convinced. "Oh, you have plenty, darling. Believe me."

Red suddenly felt very cold. She glanced at the witch, her gaze now suspicious. Seeing Bigby just then, ready to torture that woman until she gave him what he wanted only reassured her belief that he was nothing but a monster. But talking to Snow…Red was sure that the Fable was innocent. She didn't deserve to die. She had a life to live. She had Bigby and the Mundy world that the two had talked about. When Red tried to think of someone who needed her, someone she could go back to once this was done, her mind turned blank.

The Fable drew herself up, her decision made. "Name your price," she said.


End file.
